The Way Lady Luck Dances
by TheBlondeOne88
Summary: Dancing with the feet is one thing, but dancing with the heart is another - Author Unknown. I'd always been a dancer, and I planned on always being a dancer. It didn't matter that I couldn't afford classes or that I was going to a school where people didn't even know what ballet was, it was going to happen. Unfortunately, magic always throws a spanner in the works.
1. Prologue

I didn't want to go to school. I never did. My mother would drag me out of bed in the mornings and make me breakfast and I would ask her again and again why I couldn't stay home. I knew, even as a child, that I would never do anything with those lessons. I knew they were useless to me. I knew I was meant to dance.

My mother used to say that I could dance before I could walk. She would tell me about how I would stand up on my little toddler feet and wiggle, all the while keeping my eyes closed and my ears open to the music she played while she cooked.

My mother had been a dancer before me, and her mother before her. We were dancers. It was in our blood. Ballet, hip-hop, jazz, tap, ballroom - anything. Everything. Everyone in my family had trained at an academy in France. I was the first one not to go.

My mother didn't have the money to send me. Her own career had been cut short by an accident: me. She wasn't able to dance long enough to save money for me to go to school. So I didn't go to her fancy academy. She trained me in our garage, in our kitchen, in the supermarkets. We would dance down the streets if we ever went anywhere, and then we would come home and make dinner and dance around the kitchen, and when we'd eaten we'd go into the garage and I'd stand at our make-shift barre and she'd teach me everything she knew. And in the morning, she'd wake me up to send me to school and I would beg her 'Please mama, let me stay home and dance with you,' and she would chuckle and shoo me out the door.

In school, I would sit at my desk and tap my feet on the floor, rehearsing a tap routine I dreamed up in my head. I would spin down the hall in the arms of an imaginary partner. I would teach my friends how to do the simpler moves during recess, and they would fall about laughing and declaring that I was a much better dancer than they. I loved that. I would take a bow and they would mime throwing flowers at me. I dreamed of the day when I would be a real dancer. A ballerina, perhaps, or maybe one of those dancing girls in the videos my mother and I would watch.

So when I got the letter that I had been accepted into some school I'd never heard of, I tried to refuse.

'Mama!' I pleaded. 'What's the point in sending me away when you know I'll learn so much more with you? You know they don't teach dance there. Why should I have to go?'

My mother did not even look up from her knife as it sliced through another carrot. 'You need an education Adéle. I can't be your teacher forever.'

'Why not?' I asked, outraged. 'I don't need what they're teaching me. I only need what you can teach me!'

'Your body will betray you someday Adéle. You will need an education to fall back on,' she told me as she swept the carrots into a pot.

'My body won't betray me! Look, it does anything I ask it to! Anything!'

At this, I lept into a grande jeté, perfectly executed. I landed and lifted my left leg behind me into an arabesque, then back down into a croisé with my left leg behind and finished with a pirouette. I stood in fourth position, waiting for her approval.

My mother didn't even look up. 'You are a good dancer. Better than I was at your age. But everyone ages. And I don't want you to end up like me, working in a shop because you have no skills in your head to match those in your body.'

I turned and ran to my room. But in a few weeks, I was at the King's Cross Station for the first time, staring at the sign indicating I was standing on Platform 9.

'Where is the platform mama?' My voice was quiet, scared.

She looked around worriedly and shook her head. 'I don't know sweetheart.'

We stood for a minute. I clutched the handle of my trolley and stared at the trunk we'd tied onto it. I pushed it back and forth experimentally. After a while a kind looking woman came over and helped us get onto the platform. We stood there for a second, uneasy, watching the odd people around us and the scarlet steam engine that gleamed on the tracks. A boy with a badge on his chest helped me load my trunk onto the train, and as we pulled out of the station I waved to my mother, standing alone on the platform, her hand lifted in a wave and her eyes full of sadness.

I had trouble sleeping at school. After about a week, I couldn't take it anymore and slipped out of my room in the middle of the night. I wandered around for a bit until I found myself lost and standing in front of a door I was sure hadn't been there before. When I opened it, I found a classroom. A proper classroom, with mirrored walls and a real barre that was made of smooth wood and not a bit of plastic pipe. It had gleaming hardwood floors, and there, in the middle of the room, was a pair of brand new pointe shoes, already broken in. They were just my size.

Every day I would slip away to this room. Every night I came back and danced until my muscles ached and my eyes slid shut out of a tiredness that seeped into my bones. I slept better.

When I went home for the holidays, I told my mother about the room.

'It's beautiful mama. It looks like the pictures you showed me from your days at school.'

She smiled at me and pushed a bit of hair off my face. 'I'm glad you like your new school sweetheart.'

Except I didn't. I liked that room and that was all. I couldn't ever skive off a class because it was a boarding school - they would know. I learned things I didn't care about and didn't learn the things I needed. I spent ages in the library reading books about dancing, both Muggle and magical, and left homework until the last minute and didn't study for my tests. I scraped by. In class, I would sit and gaze out the window, watching the birds and dreaming up a new routine. I skipped meals to stretch and run and workout, building up my strength until I could balance on one hand and leap higher than I ever had before.

I did not have friends at school. I kept to myself. I tried at first, but none of the other girls had even heard of jazz dancing, and only a few knew what ballet was. They thought my restlessly tapping feet were strange, and they cast disparaging glances at my waifish body. The boys did not like me either. They called me 'Stick' and asked when I was going to disappear again. And so I avoided them. I ran off to my room and rehearsed every dance I knew until I couldn't stand and I threw up from exhaustion.

I was happier than I had been before I discovered the room, but not as happy as I would have liked. I would have liked to have a friend. As I grew older, I would have liked a boyfriend too. But there was no one who even looked in my direction. I sat alone at a table during lunch and watched the people around me. They didn't notice. I listened to their conversations and imagined they were talking to me. I danced ballroom without a partner, but imagined that this boy or that one was dancing beside me. I retreated into my head so far that I didn't notice the scathing remarks the other girls threw my way. Dance became my escape, my drug, my way of life. I knew I could never survive without it.


	2. The Pas de Deux

My black tap shoes clicked against the floor, creating a quick, happy-sounding rhythm. I smiled and let out a little laugh as I spun. I watched my movements closely in the mirror. The music - _Sing Sing Sing_ , my all-time favorite jazz song - seemed to be struggling to catch up with me. I quaked my hips and tapped my heels at the drum solo, leaning forward and adding movement in my hands, my feet, my torso, as the other instruments joined in, isolating each part of my body so the movements were separate but still worked together. As the music swelled, I leaped high into the air in a double shuffle, landed, and leaped again.

I felt transported back in time, and I loved it. I loved the jazz age. I loved the cheerful, energetic style of dance and music. It felt equal parts young and antique. I was always in the mood for a little jazz dancing. Or tap dancing. It was very similar really.

The music stopped and I changed into my pointe shoes, sewing myself into them as always. I finished just as Tchaikovsky's 'Four Little Swans' started up. I stood and started the routine, wishing, not for the first time, that I had three other girls here to dance the other parts. The dance wasn't too hard, but synchronizing it perfectly with several other people was, and I had no one to practice that with.

It was after midnight when I got back to my dorm. I tried to move quietly, but I still wasn't quiet enough.

'Adéle? That you?'

I flinched a little at Zara's nasally voice coming from the bed closest to the door.

'Sorry,' I whispered. 'I didn't mean to wake you.'

'Well, you did,' she shot back harshly. 'You should be sorry.'

'Sorry,' I whispered again, so quietly I'm sure she didn't hear it.

I crawled into my bed and squeezed my eyes shut. I could still feel the pounding bass line from my last song thudding through my veins.

xxx

Morning came too soon. The sunlight seemed to press against my eyelids, forcing them open and burning my eyes. I rolled over. The other girls were already running around, getting dressed and hogging the mirror the way they always did. I pulled on my robes and studied my bare feet. They looked terrible. I grabbed my camera and snapped a picture when I was sure no one was looking. I pulled socks over them and then shoes, wincing as the leather rubbed my blisters.

I twisted my hair into a bun quickly, grabbed my bag and headed out the door. I slipped down staircase after staircase, finally stopping in front of the Great Hall. The smell of food seemed to be intoxicating to the people around me and I wondered how they could stand it. I sat down in my usual seat and grabbed a green apple from the bowl in front of me. It smelled sweet and sour and juice dripped down my arm when I bit into it.

As I ate I studied my Muggle Studies book. There was a test. I might even pass it.

'Hey bun-head,' I heard a voice say behind me.

I smiled slightly at the accuracy of a comment I'm sure was meant to hurt me and turned around. Reuben Walsh stood there, smirking at me in a way that made me more than a little upset. Something bad was about to come.

'Did you forget how to speak, Stick?' he asked me, taking a seat.

'No.'

'Good. I'm happy for you. Now, can you tell me why you snuck out last night? And came back so late? You couldn't have been studying, but I really don't think you were with a boyfriend either. No one could be that desperate.'

I turned my apple over in my hand. 'I wasn't anywhere.'

'Nowhere?' he laughed, and his friends laughed too. 'I wish you were nowhere right now Stick. Make things a little easier on our eyes wouldn't it?'

His friends laughed again.

I twirled the stem of the apple between my fingers, watching as a bit of juice flew off of it and landed on my jumper. Reuben left. I stood. I had a test to take.

xxx

I skipped lunch, choosing to go to the library instead. There was a book there on the history of ceremonial dancing that I was trying to read. I was late to Potions, and when the day was over I was relieved. I wasn't feeling creative enough to dance, so I went for a jog around the lake. I could hear one of the Quidditch teams practicing on the pitch. I kept running when I felt the burn in my legs. The burn felt good, a reminder that I was getting stronger. As I finished my first lap, I noticed the Gryffindor team heading out of the castle. They were laughing and heading straight for me.

I kept running. I did not want to face them. They stood at the edge of the lake and started stretching. I stopped on the far side of the lake and watched them. Their captain was leading them in some stretches and warm up exercises. They started doing pushups, stopping at fifty. Then fifty crunches, and fifty more pushups. And fifty more crunches.

It was hard to watch, but I sat on the shore and watched anyway. They weren't as strong as they thought they were - I could do twice as many pushups and three times as many crunches - and it was obvious they weren't taking it seriously. They kept yelling.

They did jumping jacks and planks and a few other warm ups before starting off, running around the lake. I jumped up and started running. I did not want them to catch up to me. And I had to finish my workout.

I started on my third lap, and I was quickly approaching the Seeker, who was trailing behind the others. A red-headed girl. Lily Potter. I slowed down and veered off. I had to keep running or my body would hate me, but I did not want to have any encounters with any of the Quidditch teams. I ran into the woods and stopped behind a tree. I leaned back against it and let my breathing slow. My heart was racing. When it returned to normal, I stepped out to head back up to the castle.

As soon as I stepped away from the tree, something slammed into me, knocking me to the ground.

'Oh Merlin, I'm so sorry!'

I blinked. There was a Quaffle lying next to me on the grass. And someone was jogging over to get it. I stood, picking up the Quaffle and holding it out. James Potter loomed over me.

'Thanks, I'm really sorry about that,' he said, running one hand through his hair.

I gave a little shrug and started to turn away.

'Hey wait,' I heard him say. 'Do I know you?'

My cheeks burned. Six years sharing classes with him and he didn't even know my name. I shook my head and ran away.

That night I danced a pas de deux, partnerless. I imagined someone standing behind me, lifting me at all the right moments, shadowing me and keeping me steady. I danced it over and over until the mirror told me it was perfect.

xxx

It had been two weeks since what I had begun to think of as 'the Quaffle Incident' when James Potter spoke to me again.

'Do you have a partner?' he asked me in Potions. 'Everyone else does.'

I looked up at him and shook my head.

'Mind if I work with you?'

I shook my head again.

'You're a quiet one aren't you?' he asked teasingly.

I blushed and my hands trembled. I wasn't quiet. Not in my head. I hated it when people said this. They always said this.

'Do you know how to do this?'

I shrugged and flipped to the right page in the textbook.

'Oh-kay,' I heard him mutter.

My shoulders tensed, drawing inwards. I glanced back at him and he smiled awkwardly.

'I'll just go get the - stuff,' he said, and turned away.

I looked down at the empty cauldron and then back up at the textbook. James came back with his arms full of ingredients and we started working. We didn't really speak at first, just simple things like 'Pass the billywig horns' and 'Do you have the lacewing flies?' for most of the class. I scraped a bit of roughly chopped eel eye into the cauldron and turned back to my cutting board. The class filled with little popping sounds as other people added the eel eyes and I frowned.

'Should ours be making that sound?'James asked, prodding the potion with the ladle.

'I think so.'

James' forehead creased and he dropped in another eel eye. The popping sounds started and then there was a _bang_ and I flung my arms over my head. When I lowered them, I could see that we were both dripping bits of our globby potion onto the floor.

'Too many eel eyes, I think,' I said dryly, shaking out my sleeves.

James snorted. I looked up at him and he met my eyes and started laughing. I joined in a second later. The rest of the class shot us irritated looks, their own potions popping away merrily, but we couldn't stop laughing.

'You're alright,' James said as we started clearing up. 'What's your name?'

'Adéle,' I replied. 'It's nice to meet you.'

'Why haven't I seen you around before?' he asked me.

I shrugged. 'I keep to myself. I don't like attention.'

'Please. Everybody likes attention.'

'Not me.'

'So what are you going to do with your life then? Even crazy cat ladies get some attention from their feline friends.'

I laughed again. 'I guess I'll get over it eventually.'

'You should,' James agreed. 'Seeing as it's either that or death.'

I smiled at him. 'A tragic choice, really.'

He smiled back. 'I'll see you around Adéle.'

He headed off to lunch and I picked up my bag. I was halfway to my room when I ran into Reuben Walsh.

'Hey there Stick,' he said with a leer. 'Where are you off to? Going to meet up with your desperate boyfriend?'

I shook my head and tried to walk away, but he stepped in front of me. 'Hold on Stick, I'm still talking.'

I wrapped my arms around myself and wished I could disappear.

'Just let me go,' I whispered.

'What's that Stick? Let you go? Now why would we do that?' Walsh smiled crookedly. 'Tell me, where's the fun in that Stick?'

He leaned in, his face too close to mine. I winced, pulling back. He smirked.

'I'll see you around Stick,' he said in a mocking voice.

He turned and walked away, and I stared after him, shocked. When he finally made it around the corner, I ran to my room. I shut the door and leaned against it for a moment before quickly changing into leggings and a loose shirt. I left my battered feet bare and started the music. One of my mum's favorite songs seeped into the room. It was a dubstep song.

She always said there were some songs you couldn't choreograph to, songs with too much passion to be pinned down by choreography, where every time you heard it it held a different meaning and required different steps, and this was one of them. I freestyled, mixing every style of dance I knew. I leaped as high as I could, landed and then pressed my body against the ground. I swung my legs through the air, sprang to my feet, spun, and leaped up again. I swayed, moving my hands and legs but not my feet, then twirled and fell into a split. When the song ended, my cheeks hurt from smiling, and giddiness filled me up.

I braced my hands against my waist and laughed. Walsh didn't matter, would never matter, as long as I could dance.

xxx

After lunch I had Muggle Studies, so I sat in the room quietly as the other students filed in. I had a desk all to myself; no one wanted to sit with Stick. I could hear Walsh's ugly guffaw in the back of the room so I twisted my hands in my lap and pretended I didn't notice. Someone threw their bag down beside me and I jumped.

'Hi there,' Freddy Weasley said.

I stared back at him, confused.

'So I was just eating lunch when James came and sat next to me, all casual like, but he had this funny looking goop in his hair, so of course I had to ask what happened,' Freddy said casually, leaning back in his seat. 'And he told me he had a new Potions partner and that they blew up half the classroom.'

He looked at me expectantly. I blinked. He continued.

'I just had to know who this mysterious partner was - after all, anyone who can explode a classroom with just one cauldron is someone after my own heart. So I asked him, and he started describing some girl named Adéle, and as he went on I just kept thinking "Gee, now doesn't that sound like that quiet girl in Muggle Studies"? So I'm really just here to ask you if you really blew up the dungeon.'

He stopped talking. I stared back at him.

'Did you blow up the dungeon?'

'No.'

Freddy looked shocked. 'Really? I was so sure it was you. What's your name anyway?'

'Adéle.'

'So it was you!' Freddy exclaimed triumphantly. 'No point in denying it, I already know the full story.'

'But I didn't blow up the dungeon. Or even half the classroom. I just made my cauldron pop.'

'Oh.' A disappointed expression, crossed his face, but only for a second. 'Still, I guess everyone has to start somewhere!'

He grinned, looking so pleased, and I couldn't help but smile back at him. His enthusiasm was infectious.

'So how did you do it?'

'James put in one too many eel eyes.'

'Aha! So it was Jimmy's fault! I knew that boy had a shifty look about him.'

I frowned. 'So if I accidently popped my cauldron I'm a hero, but if James accidentally pops a cauldron he's shifty?'

'Yes my dear Adéle, you see, James is a clever boy whose pranks have evolved far beyond popping cauldrons and exploding classrooms. So if he's popping some poor girl's cauldron it means he's up to something.'

'Or it was a mistake,' I suggested.

'No, not a mistake. Never a mistake. No family of mine could make a mistake.'

'No, of course not,' I agreed.

'Anyways, that was quite a long introduction, Adéle formerly know as The Quiet Girl In Muggle Studies. It was nice to meet you,' Freddy said, sticking out his hand.

I shook it, trying not to roll my eyes.

'What's that look for?' Freddy asked.

'What look?'

'That one. That one there. The look that so clearly says "I'm not actually quiet and it irritates me that people think I am".'

'I think you just figured out what it's for.'

'Yes, I did, didn't I? So you're not quiet then?'

I shrugged.

'So you are.'

I glared.

'Not?' Freddy looked desperately confused.

I shrugged again.

'Only quiet people don't use their words Adéle.'

'Oh please excuse me for my rudeness, dear Freddy. I'm so terribly sorry I'm not vocalizing my every thought to the boy I just met.' I said sarcastically, a bit fed up.

Freddy grinned. 'I like you.'

I raised my eyebrows.

'I mean, you're a little withdrawn, but I'm sure if I were to ask your friends, they'd tell me you can be a sarcastic bint from time to time, as girls are so wont to do.'

I raised my eyebrows a little more.

'Not that I think you're a bint of course.'

'Of course.'

'Not in the slightest. I think you're quite pleasant. I like sarcasm.'

His expression was that of someone desperately bailing water from a sinking ship and hoping that their little pail has done enough. I smiled a little. He threw his arms in the air victoriously.

'She smiled! I am not the victim of her murderous thoughts!'

'Nobody's said that. Keep calm.'

He laughed. 'I like you Adéle.'

I blushed.

xxx

'I like you Adéle!' Zara whined later that night.

The other girls laughed.

'Oh Freddy, please, take me away from this place and make me feel loved! You know you're the only one for me! Rub my ugly, bloody feet Freddy, and help me name my seven cats!'

Zara stood on her bed, prancing around in her rolled up uniform skirt. She had one arm flung across her forehead dramatically and she had pitched her voice higher, mocking me. I curled my hands into fists on my duvet, keeping my eyes on my Potions book.

'Are you listening sweetie?' Zara asked me, dropping next to me on my bed. She flipped onto her back and shoved her feet into my pillows. 'I'm planning out your life right now Adéle, so if there's anything you'd like me to include, just let me know.'

I looked away.

'Have it your way,' she shrugged and then leaped up again.

'What's this?' Freya asked, pulling a box out from under my bed. 'Pictures of your lover?'

I looked at the box she was holding. Immediately I jumped off my bed and snatched it out of her hands before she could open it. She jerked back, startled. She'd never seen me move so fast or stand up for myself. The other girls laughed.

'Must be something important, or she'd never defend it,' Caitlin giggled.

Zara held out her hand. 'Let us have a look Adéle. We're your _friends_!'

I shook my head mutely.

'Please sweetie? You know we'd never hurt you, don't you?' She jutted out her lower lip and rested her hand on my shoulder.

I pressed my hands against the box. It was an old cardboard shoe box, and the sides bent under my fingers. I closed my eyes.

Zara shook her head. 'Come on girls. We'll be late to the party if we carry on like this. And _she's_ not worth it.'

Freya and Caitlin giggled again and started to leave the room.

'Oh, and Adéle, darling, don't wait up. We'll be out late.' Zara winked at me and the three of them finally left the room.

I sat back on my bed and placed the box in my lap. I was just about to open it when the bathroom door banged open.

'Did they already leave?' Chloe said, rushing into the room in her towel.

I nodded.

She darted around, pulling on clothes and fastening too many necklaces around her neck and eventually leaving. I had the room to myself. I opened the box.

Inside was my very first pair of ballet slippers, the soft pink cloth faded and worn. I picked them up. They didn't smell like feet, they smelled like roses, like the dried rose petals underneath them. I set the slippers aside.

Beneath the petals was a mess of photographs. They were Muggle photographs, my mother's, from her days in the Opéra national de Paris and corps de ballet there. I looked through each of them. There she was with a few friends, lounging on the steps outside the school, and there she was in class, leg extended behind her in an arabesque. There were pictures of the beautiful costumes she wore, of performances, of the flowers she and the other girls would receive after their shows. She looked so happy in all of them, the way she hadn't looked in a long time.

It was the last picture in the box that I stared at the longest. It was the only picture I had of my dad. They were in the middle of a pas de deux, he was lifting her high above his head. They were onstage, alone. She was laughing while she danced, the way I always did. He was smiling up at her. He looked handsome, and she looked beautiful.

My mother had never told me that this was my dad, but I knew he had to be. I had his dark, messy curls, while my mother's hair was straight and fine. I had his slightly pointed chin instead of my mother's round face. His eyebrows with their high arch. His straight nose, although mine was a tad smaller.

When I couldn't take it anymore, I set the picture aside and reached back into the box. The last thing there was a dusty old compact. My grandmother's. I opened it. The mirror inside was foggy around the edges, but it still showed my reflection. I turned my head from side to side.

Was I ugly? Walsh and everyone else seemed to think so. When I left the school though, and went back to my Muggle friends, they all told me the opposite. I didn't know who to believe. I liked my eyes. I thought they were a pretty colour, an odd sort of greenish-blue. And my hair was thick, even if it wasn't blonde and straight like the other girls. I lifted the tired-looking powder puff from it's place and inhaled briefly. The powder in the compact had a pretty, flowery scent that made me think of old things, like ballet.

I replaced the puff and shut the compact. Slowly, I gathered together the photographs and put them back in the box, then covered them with dried rose petals and the slippers. I shut the box and tucked it back under my bed, shoving it far out of sight and throwing a jumper over it. I sat back up and headed into the bathroom. If this was to be the only time this week I'd have the room to myself, I might as well make the most of it.

The room was full of steam and smelled like sickeningly sweet flowers. I wiped a clear spot on the mirror and pulled out my makeup bag.

Remembering the way my mother looked in the pictures of her performing, I began to apply the eye shadows and foundation. I didn't wear makeup everyday, but I loved stage makeup. I loved the dramatic eyeliner, under my eyes as well as over; the false eyelashes that made my eyes look big and dark. The eyelash curler that I'd always thought looked like some sort of bone-chilling doctor's instrument.

When I was done, I stared at myself in the mirror until everything blurred together in front of me. Then I wiped it all off and jumped in the shower. I watched the last bits of my mascara swirl down the drain as I shampooed my hair. I took as long as I wanted - there was no one there to yell at me to hurry up.

An hour later, I was lying on my bed with a quill in hand, writing out a letter to my mother. My wet hair hung heavily around my shoulders, dripping onto my duvet. There was a knock at the door.

I flew into a sitting position, alert and terrified. Who could possibly be here? I stood and opened the door.

Two third year girls stared back at me. Lily Potter was one of them, but I didn't recognize the other.

'Are you Adéle?' asked the mystery girl bossily.

I nodded.

'I'm Roxy, this is Lily.'

The two of them pushed their way into my room and started looking around.

'This place is a mess,' Roxy said, wrinkling her nose.

'Um.'

'Ooh! This is pretty! Is this yours?' Lily held out one of Freya's tiny dresses that she'd cast aside while getting dressed earlier.

'Oh -.'

'Wow, your view is much better than ours,' Roxy said enviously.

'It smells amazing in here! Like vanilla! Do you use that vanilla lotion thingamee?'

'Er -.'

'Is your bathroom bigger? Lily, come in here and help me figure this out.'

'Ooh! You _do_ use that vanilla lotion thingamee!'

'It's called _body butter_ Lils, it's not that hard to remember.'

'Wow it smells _sooo_ good in here! Don't you think it smells good in here Rox?'

'Ah -.'

'Look at this thing Lily! What the _hell_ is this thing?'

I stepped into the doorway of the bathroom to see Roxy swinging around Chloe's massive curling wand. I had no idea how she got it to work here, but she used it nearly every day. When Roxy saw me in the mirror, she swung around, nearly hitting both me and Lily with the curling wand. Lily ducked and I jumped back, making a very embarrassing squeaking sound in the process.

The two of them watched me carefully, not moving.

'What are you doing here?' I finally asked.

'Well,' Roxy said, tossing the curling wand onto the counter. 'James and Freddy were talking about you at lunch _and_ at dinner and we wanted to know who you were so we came up here because they said you were all quiet and stuff so we figured you wouldn't be at the party like everybody else and then now we're in your bathroom because you're older than us and have all that stuff we don't have yet, like, you know, makeup-y whatever. And whatever the hell this is.'

She grabbed the curling wand and waved it around again. Lily ducked.

'Oh,' was all I could say.

They both stared at me. After a while, Roxy huffed out a breath.

'They said you were funny.'

'Oh.'

'So say something funny!'

'Er -.'

Lily smacked Roxy on the arm. 'You're being mean Roxy! Stop it!'

'What? I didn't do anything!'

Lily rolled her eyes and folded her arms across her chest.

'Merlin Lils! Okay, I'm sorry we barged in your room and went through your stuff and demanded that you say something funny,' Roxy said, turning to face me. 'But can you really blame us?'

'I think I'd sooner blame your mothers,' I admitted before my eyes widened in alarm at what I'd just said.

Roxy and Lily stared at me for a second, heads cocked to the side.

'Well at least you don't blame us,' Roxy said.

She put down the curling wand and headed out of the bathroom. Lily followed. The two of them flopped onto Freya's bed and watched me.

'Did you want something?' I asked them.

They looked at each other. 'Actually, yes.'

'What?'

'Well you see,' Lily started. 'Our family's a wee bit -'

'Famous.'

'Famous, yes, and it's not like _we_ had any choice about it. We just kinda grew up like this you know?'

'And the two of us are girls and we see the world a bit differently than our idiot brothers,' Roxy continued. 'So we've recently taken it upon ourselves to protect them.'

'How recently?' I asked, taking a seat on my bed.

'About an hour ago. Anyways, we wanted to know what your intentions were with respect to our brothers.'

'Of course,' I responded, a little nervously.

'So?' Lily asked.

'So…what?'

The two of them exploded into giggles. When they quieted, Roxy clarified.

'So what are your intentions with our brothers?'

'I don't really know that I have any. They both came up to me.'

They looked at each other again and then Lily pulled out a little notebook and scribbled something down. She showed the page to Roxy, who nodded then looked up at me.

'What is your full name?'

'Adéle Marie Bertrand.'

'Who is your favorite celebrity?'

'Yvette Chauviré.'

'Who's that?'

'French dancer in the twentieth century.'

'Oh-kay… What's your ambition?'

'I don't really know yet.'

'Ugh. Really? Anyways, what kind of marks do you get?'

'Mediocre, at best.'

The two of them exchanged a knowing look before plowing on.

'Favorite type of music?'

'Jazz.'

'How often do you break little rules?'

'Little rules?'

'Yeah,' Lily held up two fingers a centimeter apart. 'Little ones.'

'A lot, I guess.'

I thought about all of my meal-skipping and curfew-avoiding. Definitely a lot.

'Have you ever bleached your hair?'

'No?'

'Gotten a nose job?'

'No.'

'A boob job?'

I wrinkled my nose. 'Ew. No.'

Roxy elbowed Lily. 'Isn't that obvious?' she hissed.

I blushed.

'She could've gotten a breast reduction,' Lily hissed back.

I blushed a little more.

'Do you work out?'

'Yes.'

'Do you follow Quidditch?'

'Not really.'

Roxy made a choking sound. Lily elbowed her.

'What's your type?'

'My type?'

'In guys,' Lily clarified.

'I don't really know, I've never really had the chance to figure that out…'

I trailed off. They were looking at me funny.

'Well that's all!' Roxy suddenly chirped, jumping up. 'Time to go Lils!'

They ran out the door. I shut it behind them and smiled.


	3. The Corps

Even after my encounter with Roxy and Lily, I wasn't expecting to be approached again by any member of the Potter-Weasley family. So when James came up to me in Potions the next day I was surprised.

'I heard you met my family,' he said as he took the seat beside me. 'I'm sorry about all of them.'

'Why?'

He looked confused. 'Well from what Roxy and Lily said this morning I gathered that they interrogated you last night about some things that probably weren't your fault.'

'Interrogate is a strong word,' I said absently. I doodled a music note on the blank parchment in front of me.

'Just strong enough when it comes to those two. Can I guess how the whole situation played out?'

I nodded.

'They knocked on your door, barged into your room and went through all your things, made some strange comments about your view and the way your room smelled, and then asked you a bunch of random questions before giggling and running out of the room.'

I blinked in shock.

'I got it didn't I?'

'Yes,' I said. 'That's exactly what they did.'

'How did you react?' he asked me, leaning back in his seat.

I blushed. 'I may have insulted their mothers. Inadvertently of course.'

He laughed. 'I do that all the time.'

'So you're not mad?'

'It would be awfully hypocritical of me if I were.'

There was a moment of awkward silence. Then James coughed, looking a bit embarrassed.

'Do you mind if I work with you again? My friends, see, they got tired of my cauldron abuse and refuse to work with me anymore.'

I shrugged, not caring either way.

'Smashing. Shall we?'

I nodded, and he retreated into the cupboard at the back of the room. We managed to get through the lesson without exploding anything, although he did warn me that when we finished the potion the following day, there might be a bit more airborne goop.

I skipped the Great Hall entirely that day. Instead I went straight to my room. For a long while I just stared at myself in the mirror. Even though there was music playing, I couldn't bring myself to dance for ages. I tilted my head left and right, stretched out my legs and arms, but didn't move from my spot on the floor. The music didn't feel right.

Usually, the room played whatever music I wanted it to, without asking and without speakers. But for some reason I couldn't figure out what music I wanted to dance to. I listened to parts of various songs, but nothing felt right. Not my favorite Russian ballet composers, or any of the jazz performers, or even those dubstep and hip hop songs my mother had learned to love after leaving France.

It wasn't until a burlesque song started up that I realized what I really needed to dance to. It was fast-paced and sexy, it required more strength and flexibility than most people care to think, and it suited my mood exactly.

As I danced I considered how strange that was. I almost never danced burlesque; even thinking about it was enough to make me blush sometimes. And it wasn't that my sudden acquaintanceship with James and Freddy and Roxy and Lily made me feel all that sexy. It was something in the freedom of the dance - how the idea of burlesque was to tease and scandalize and excite instead of staying stuck with ballet's more antiquated goal to inspire and amaze. There were fewer restrictions and fewer mistakes you could make. Even falling could be twisted to look intentional, as Cher had said in the movie _Burlesque_ 'If you fall off the stage, leg extended, boobs out.'

I finished the routine and then ran off, already late to Muggle Studies. My body might hate me later for not stretching after dancing, but it was one short routine so I didn't worry about it much.

I bumped into Freddy in the hall. His expression could only be described as mischievous, so I took a quick step backwards when he noticed me.

'Ah! Adèle the Not-So-Quiet Girl in Muggle Studies! I was just looking for you.'

I arched an eyebrow at him. He stared back at me.

'I think you need a shorter name.'

I nodded in agreement.

'Aren't you wondering why I was trying so desperately to find you?'

I shrugged and reached for the door. 'I figure you'll tell me either way, so there's no point in wasting energy asking about it.'

'Quite true. Anyway, I was hoping you'd not go to class today.'

I paused, hand on the door. 'What did you do?'

He pressed a hand to his heart as though wounded. 'Why are you so quick to assume that I've done something?'

I shot him a look, letting go of the door as I did so.

'Yes. Well. Care to take a turn with me?'

He offered me his arm and I lowered my gaze to his elbow.

'It might be a bit -' he squirmed '- safer.'

'Safer how?'

'Well I heard we had a sort of unexpected test today and being entirely unprepared for this sort of thing I was forced to rig a nice little explosion in the walls. If anyone says the word "Muggle" there will be a nice little _pop_ followed by a shower of glop. Inspired, of course, by your little incident the other day.'

'So how has it not popped already?'

'Our dear professor has to say the word. Only his voice can trigger it. And you know how he likes to take the roundabout way of saying things.'

'Not like anyone else I know.'

Freddy looked at me suspiciously. 'If I didn't know better I'd say that was a cruel and sarcastic joke at my expense.'

I smiled and took his arm. 'I could never insult you, Freddy darling.'

'You have very mocking eyebrows.'

'They're a gift.'

He nodded. 'Niceties out of the way, I say we should run before the _pop_.'

With that, he dragged me down the corridor, down a few flights of stairs, and down another corridor. I barely had time to register where we were before he pulled me behind a tapestry. I blinked. We were in a kitchen.

'Have you been to the Hogwarts kitchen before?' Freddy asked me, snatching a pastry from a tray offered by one of the House Elves milling about.

'No.'

'Then you're in for a treat!'

Freddy smiled like a little boy on Christmas morning and started showing me around, introducing me to the House Elves, and pressing food into my hands.

'Eat, Adèle the Not-So-Quiet Girl in Muggle Studies! You're too skinny!'

I took the food he offered me and subtly put it all down again when he wasn't looking. The heavy chocolate cakes he seemed to prefer looked overly sweet and dense to me. The only thing I ate was a piece of treacle tart - the smallest thing I could find in the over-sized kitchen. It was good though, and I hadn't had anything since my morning apple.

Eventually Freddy let me go. He disappeared for Quidditch practice and I went up to my dorm.

Zara and the others weren't there, so I stretched out on my bed leisurely. Freddy's words echoed through my head, telling me to eat, telling me I was too skinny. When I couldn't take it anymore I stood up and paced. When that didn't work I bent my legs into a quick, shallow plié, and then began to pirouette. I had gone around three times when the door was rudely flung open.

'What _are_ you doing Stick?' Freya asked, nose in the air.

I stood still. 'Nothing.'

She snorted. 'Right. Nothing.'

I didn't reply. She flung herself across her bed. After a moment of excruciating silence, I left.

xxx

After a week of being James's Potions partner and Freddy's distraction from Muggle Studies, as well as being the object of Roxy and Lily's occasional random question in the corridor, James invited me to sit with them at lunch.

'It's just I never see you in the Great Hall, so I thought that maybe you'd like to actually eat lunch for once. Instead of doing whatever you usually do,' he explained.

I considered it while he hastily added that I didn't _have_ to, but that some of his cousins were eager to meet me. Eventually, I agreed.

The thing that made the least sense was that his cousins could be so curious about me. I wasn't used to that sort of attention, but when I thought about it, I was actually rather flattered. I was even more flattered when the next day, he asked me to eat with them again.

By the time October rolled around, I realized I had finally found friends - rather belatedly, as this was my sixth year, but better late than never.

xxx

On the Sunday of the first week of October, someone pounded on the door to the dorm at eight in the morning. I pressed my face into my pillow and listened to the other girls' groaning at the noise. The pounding didn't stop. Zara leapt to her feet impatiently and flung the the door open.

'Who are you?' I heard her snarl.

'Friends of Adèle's,' came Roxy's calm voice in response.

Zara snorted. 'Adèle doesn't have any friends.'

'She has us.'

I smiled a bit and sat up. Roxy and Lily marched into the room and plopped onto the foot of my bed. Zara, Freya and Caitlin piled onto Chloë's bed in the same manner. It felt like a mockery, but neither Roxy or Lily noticed.

Lily locked eyes with Roxy and waggled her eyebrows a bit. Roxy let out a little 'oh!' then said loudly and in a very false voice: 'Gosh Adèle, your roommates are such bitches!'

My eyes widened.

'They sure are!' agreed Lily in the same voice. 'It's no wonder Louis hates them so much!'

I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing. I'd never met Louis, but I knew that nearly the whole school was infatuated with him. My roommates especially. There were days when they talked of nothing else.

'He really only likes _nice_ girls,' Roxy said, nodding her head.

'I wish he would like Adèle, but she just _has_ to have that boyfriend in the way,' Lily added.

Roxy pinched me, and widened her eyes, telling me to play along.

'He's _so_ cute though. I can't blame her for not giving him up,' Roxy said. 'It's too bad he lives in France. That must be so hard to live with.'

She pinched me again.

'I guess it can be, sure,' I said uncomfortably.

'What did he say in that last letter again?'Roxy asked.

'Er -'

Lily walloped her on the arm. 'Stop asking that Rox! You know how private she is!'

I coughed, then grabbed them both by the arms and dragged them into the en suite.

'What are you doing?' I hissed once the door was shut behind us.

'Helping?'

Lily widened her eyes at me, attempting to look innocent.

'Please stop.'

They nodded, abashed.

'Breakfast?' Roxy asked as I pushed the door back open.

I noticed Lily swipe the tub of vanilla body butter and hide it behind her back. It was Freya's so I let it go.

'Alright with me,' I said with a shrug.

We left the dorm and headed towards the Great Hall, Lily tossing the body butter through her dorm's open door when we passed it.

Freddy, James and another boy were some of the only people awake, sitting together at the end of the table. Lily whispered to me that they'd had a detention last night and hadn't managed to go to bed after, instead choosing to pull an all-nighter.

'Hullo,' Freddy said cheerfully as we sat down.

I gave a little smile and wave. Lily and Roxy ignored him. James's elbow slipped off the table, spilling his pumpkin juice. I jumped away from him, hoping not to get splashed, and the other boy snorted.

I glanced over at him. Felix Mersey - one of Freddy's friends when he wasn't busy being one of Walsh's minions. My shoulders tensed a little and I dropped my eyes. He sat with us at lunch occasionally, making rude remarks towards everyone and everything, not just me. He could sometimes be witty, which was probably why Freddy put up with him, but he was usually just mean.

'Hullo sis,' James said groggily, noticing us at last. 'What're you doing up so early?'

'Lots of things! I wanted to get a lot done today.'

''Cause you're a psycho,' Roxy muttered under her breath.

Lily walloped her arm again.

'Merlin Lils! Stop with the Quidditch training already!' Roxy cried, rubbing her arm.

'Speaking of Quidditch…' Freddy said, turning to Felix. 'You going for the team again this year Mersey?'

'Didn't you already have the trials?' I asked, confused. 'You've been practicing haven't you?'

'No, we've been conditioning. Trials are this week, Friday,' Lily told me.

'And I'm not playing this year. NEWTS, you know. I want to get a _real_ job when we've graduated,' Mersey said, nose in the air.

I tried not to roll my eyes, but James caught my eye and grinned, and then I couldn't help it. I could see Mersey glaring at me though, so I bit my lip and looked away. Lily tossed me an apple, which slipped through my fingers and onto the table. Felix snorted again, and my cheeks reddened.

' _So_ ,' Roxy said quickly. 'What are your plans for the day Jimmy?'

James looked up at her, blinking. 'I don't really know. I have that essay to write for Transfiguration. And one for Defence.'

Roxy's lip curled. ' _Studying._ Ugh. What about you, wanker?'

She kicked Freddy under the table. He winced.

'Same as Jimmy most likely. Those professors do insist on making us do the most tragic things. On weekends too! We should do something about this.'

'Like your homework?' Lily said under her breath.

I laughed.

'Watch it mini-Potter. I might just rig one of those _pops_ I've grown so fond of under your bed.'

'I'll just sleep in Roxy's bed.'

'You kick too much!' Roxy protested.

'Adèle's then,' Lily replied, waving her hand.

'I like my sleep just as much as Roxy, thanks.'

'Then why don't you ever get any?' Mersey asked, a cruel little smile on his face. 'I was in the common room when you came back late last night. _Again._ Doesn't look like you get too much sleep to me.'

I squeezed my apple a little, my knuckles turning white on the green-tinged skin. 'I was studying.'

'Then why don't you ever get anything above an A in any of your classes? Are you just that thick?'

I stared at the grains on the wooden table surface and stayed silent. I could tell the others were all glaring at him, but I felt too awkward and embarrassed to care much. After a long silence, I coughed and stood up.

'I'll see you later,' I said quietly.

As I walked away, I heard a thump and Freddy saying, a little angrily, 'Now what did you have to go and say that for mate?'

I wandered down the Transfiguration corridor, heading towards my room. About halfway along, I saw Walsh.

'Where are you off to Stick?' he asked me. 'All by yourself for once. I thought that once you made some friends you'd never let them go.'

I ducked my head and didn't reply.

'I asked you a question Stick,' Walsh said, getting closer. 'Answer me.'

I took a step back. I wanted to say something, but my throat felt dry.

'What's the matter Stick? You lose your voice? Answer me!'

I took another step back. He reached out and wrapped his hand around my arm.

'I haven't talked to you in so long Stick. Don't run away, I just want to catch up with an old _friend_.'

My pulse raced; I could feel it in my throat. I wanted to push him away, but I was paralyzed with fear. And he was bigger than me too. I couldn't have ever fought him off.

'Oi!'

My head snapped up. Louis Weasley was walking towards us in the otherwise abandoned corridor.

'What are you up to Walsh?' he asked.

Walsh straightened and let go of my arm. 'None of your business Weasley.'

Louis looked at me and, reading the fear on my face, said: 'Picking on a girl? Now I see why you aren't in Gryffindor. You're a coward.'

Walsh's eyes flashed and he reached for his wand.

'I wouldn't do that, Walsh,' Louis said amiably. His wand was already out and pointed steadily at Walsh's neck. 'Most people don't like dueling with me.'

Walsh let out a growl. 'Weasley. . .'

'Get out.'

He left, looking angry.

'Thanks,' I said quietly.

'No problem.' He looked over at me. 'Aren't you my cousins' mate?'

I nodded.

'I've heard a lot about you,' he said with a smile. 'It's nice to finally meet you. Adèle, right?'

I nodded again.

'I'm Louis.'

I smiled at him briefly.

'Nice to meet you.'

'Do you want me to walk you to wherever you're going?' he asked me. 'To make sure that Walsh isn't hanging around the corner or anything?'

'No, that's alright. He's not got the patience to wait around for me.'

'If you're sure,' he said uncertainly. 'I'll see you around Adèle.'

He left; I continued on my way.

I could see why Freya and Caitlin were so in love with him. He was tall, and fit, and had that whole veela thing on his side. And he was respectful, chivalrous. He cared. That, I think, was a huge part of what made him so attractive. He could play the knight in shining armor, riding in on his white horse. Freddy was wittier, James more athletic, and from I could tell, the younger cousins were smarter, but Louis had that charisma that just drew people to him. I couldn't help but be a little jealous of that.

My mother had told me that the best soloists at the Opera national de Paris had been like that too. That they had had that ability to charm people, both on and off stage. I did not have that. I was not charismatic. I was too shy, too rough around the edges. Too scared. I didn't have what it takes to charm people.

 _Well,_ I decided as I slipped through the door to my room. _If I can't charm them, I'll have to amaze them._

I changed into a leotard and tights, sewed myself into my pointe shoes, and warmed up at the barre. Sweat ran down my spine and it tickled. I drew my shoulder blades back, closer together, trying to pinch the salty snake. When the warm up was done, I stepped into the center of the room, facing the mirror, to practice a few petit allégro steps. I spun a pirouette.

I turned twice, eyes focused on my spot, before my supporting leg wobbled and I dropped back onto my heels.

 _Again,_ I heard my mother's voice say.

I raised myself back onto my toe and pirouetted again. The same thing happened.

 _Again,_ came my mother's voice.

I spun, bringing my arms in as fast as I could, nearly slapping myself in the chest. I spun a triple.

 _Not good enough,_ I thought. I gritted my teeth and remembered the Dark Swan's dance from Swan Lake.

 _Again._

I spun.

 _Again._

 _Again._

Five times around. Not good enough.

 _Again._

Six times.

 _Again._

 _Again._

 _Again._

Seven times. Better.

 _Again._

Seven.

 _Again, again, again._

Seven, seven, seven.

I frowned. My breath came in gasps and my heart was pounding. I fell to my knees, trying to make everything stop moving so quickly, and then rolled onto my back, eyes shut.

After what seemed like a century, I opened my eyes and took a deep breath. The world was still. I would stick with seven. Seven was good.

I scrambled back to my feet and jumped, crossing my ankles in the air. I frowned at the mirror and did the step again. This is one of the more difficult petit allégro steps, and I couldn't seem to get it right.

I jumped again and again, crossing my ankles in the air as much as I could. My legs were growing tired, but I kept working at it. I tried to sip air carefully through my nose, controlling my breathing just like everything else.

My legs didn't cross enough. I jumped again. And again. And again.

When I was satisfied, my legs had grown so fatigued that I could barely stand. I stumbled over to the corner where I'd piled my clothes and pulled out my wand. With a practiced movement, I produced a goblet from nothing and filled it with water. When the water was gone, I moved back to the center.

I practiced my chaine turns, then a changement. Both were fairly easy. Then a few different fouettes. I did my best to whip my foot through the air but it never seemed to move fast enough.

The music started before I asked it to. I tried to move my foot to the beat of a fast paced song, and it seemed to work a little better.

xxx

A few hours later, I could barely stand. My breath came in gasps and every muscle in my body was screaming in agony. I drank several goblets full of water and then dropped to the floor, propping my legs against the wall to drain them. I dripped water from the goblet on my forehead as I lay there, and it helped to cool me down.

When I finally left the room, the halls were still silent. It was Sunday, so I didn't think too much about it, but when I reached the common room and found that it was quiet too, I was confused.

Students sat in huddled groups, heads bent, whispering. A few people glanced up at me as I passed, but nobody said anything. I spotted Roxy and Freddy sitting in the corner and wandered over.

'What's going on?' I asked softly.

'You don't know?' Roxy asked incredulous. 'The headlines - look.'

She shook out the newspaper she was holding and handed it to me.

'You didn't see it this morning?' Freddy asked as I reached or the paper.

'She left before the mail came in remember?' Roxy shot back at him.

I rolled my eyes at them and looked down at the headline. _Nouveaux Mangemorts Arrive in London_ it read in bold letters, and beneath that _A group of French wizards sympathizing with the anti-Muggle sentiments of the Death Eaters were revealed to be in southern England last weekend._

I looked up. 'So?'

They gaped at me.

'Adèle, this is huge. This means there might be another war coming. There's already been a lot of tension in France - why don't you know this?' Roxy asked, shocked.

'I guess I just haven't been paying attention,' I said with a shrug.

I sat down next to her just as James came over with Hugo and Lily.

'Adèle didn't know about the war!' Roxy blurted when they reached us.

'What? How? You're French!' Lily exclaimed.

'And Muggle-born,' I pointed out. 'And oblivious to most things, honestly.'

'But knowing about this would just take basic listening skills,' James said, forehead creasing.

'Add that to the list of things I don't have. Along with a _Daily Prophet_ subscription and a Potions professor who doesn't hate me.'

'It's not you he hates, it's me,' James said.

'Right well, Adèle's apparent lack of ears aside, there's a war on, and it's come to England. We should be worried, no?' said Freddy.

'Yes,' said Hugo, nodding. His glasses wobbled precariously from their perch on his large ears. 'We should definitely be worried.'

Hugo was a bit of a worrier, so I decided to disregard that.

'Do you think Mum and Dad will be okay?' asked Lily, looking pale.

'Probably,' James answered with a shrug. 'He's got protection everywhere he goes anyway, and the ministry will just up that now. Besides, the only reason he was such an object of interest in the last war was because of that whole thing with Voldemort's Horcruxes. To the Nouveaux Mangemorts, he's just a fancy Auror.'

Lily looked a little comforted. 'That's true.'

'What's that smirk for?' Freddy asked, bumping my leg.

'It's pronounced _new-vo monj-mor_ ,' I replied, trying not to laugh.

He blinked. 'You speak French?'

'Who speaks French?' Louis asked, appearing behind me.

I jumped.

'Adèle,' Freddy said.

'Oui? Et combien de temps avez-vous été masquer ce fait?' he asked, turning to me.

I shrugged. 'Je me masque pas du tout. J'ai toujours parlé français.'

'Tu es français?'

'Oui, toute ma vie. Toi aussi, non?'

'Oui, oui, et j'aime trouver une femme de compatriote,' he said with a flirtatious smile and a wink.

I blushed.

'English, please,' Roxy said in a bored voice. 'I'd love to know how you made the indomitable Adèle blush.'

'What do you think is going to happen with this war going on?' Louis asked, smoothly changing the subject.

James shrugged. 'Business as usual. We're in Hogwarts, the safest place on earth, and these groups pop up every few years only to disappear. It'll be fine.'

'Then why's everyone so worried?' I asked.

'Nothing better to do,' he replied unapologetically.

We laughed, and the people sitting nearby glared at us, looking scandalized. That just made us laugh harder. Except for Hugo. He just turned red and kept looking worried.


	4. To Dance in Red

As the weeks went on, there came more and more news about the Nouveaux Mangemorts. There were strange deaths in Muggle London, ones that they couldn't explain. Many of the people who died were activists of some sort, demanding better schools or jobs or taxes. There had been minor attacks on wizards as well. Random people, it seemed. All of them were middle-aged, but other than that there seemed to be no connection.

I heard all this from Roxy and Lily. They would whisper it to me at breakfast or in the evening, when we all sat in the common room and tried to focus on homework. Almost invariably, the conversation would be reasonably light-hearted and we would end up laughing, not really caring too much about the outside world. When we did start laughing, their other cousins would usually come over and sit with us, and we'd do even less work than we'd been doing before. When it got late, the others would go to bed, and I'd wait until they were gone to slip out to go dance.

I was getting less sleep, that was undeniable, and it showed. I had dark bags under my eyes that I did my best to hide every morning with a combination of magic and makeup, but Walsh and Mersey and the others still noticed. And Zara still complained when I came back to the dorm late and accidentally woke her up. I kept ignoring them as best I could, but it still got to me eventually, something they obviously took great pleasure in.

The first Hogsmeade weekend rolled around, and Roxy demanded that I go with her and Lily to get costumes for the Halloween feast and the party their cousins would be throwing in the common room afterwards. So, with more than a little trepidation, I let them drag me down to Gladrags on one particularly cold Saturday.

The store had a whole section set aside, jammed full of clothing racks hung with colorful, dramatic costumes. None of them seemed to be quite my taste, but Lily in particular was rapturous.

'I want to go as a fairy,' she declared as she fingered the sleeve of an especially glittery dress. 'I think that would fit, don't you?'

Roxy and I had to agree that yes, she would make the perfect fairy.

'What about you Adèle?' Roxy asked me. 'Do you know what you're gonna wear?'

I shook my head. I hadn't dressed up since before I came to Hogwarts, and I'd never been to any of her cousin's parties, so I didn't have a clue what would be acceptable.

Lily held up a sparkly blue dress with gossamer wings attached to the back. Roxy and I nodded at her and she draped it over her arm and kept picking through the racks.

'Any ideas?' I asked Roxy.

She shrugged. 'I'm thinking something like a cat, a real slutty cat, just to drive my brother up the wall.'

I grinned at that. 'Sexy pirate. I think that would suit you better than cat.'

'Yes! Pirate. Thanks Adèle,' she disappeared down another aisle.

I wandered down the aisle, grabbing anything that caught my eye. A dark 'vampire' dress and cape, a dress that looked like a Muggle's idea of a witch's costume, a cat costume because Roxy threw it at me, a bumble bee-striped romper. I wasn't all that enthusiastic about any of them but I took them to the changing rooms anyway.

I pulled the curtain across the doorway of the little cubbyhole I was standing in and pulled on the vampire costume first. Lily and Roxy vetoed it immediately, saying it was too 'dowdy.'

'You look like an old maid,' Roxy said as she checked out the first of the pirate costumes she'd grabbed. 'And you're not an old maid. You're only sixteen!'

'Very boring,' Lily agreed. She twirled in the fairy costume, watching the skirt fan out around her legs.

I rolled my eyes. They said the same thing about the witch dress, and that the bumblebee was too childish. The cat dress I turned down because it looked ridiculous on me, seeing as I had no curves to fill it out.

'Well,' Roxy said as she and Lily sat down on the little bench outside the dressing rooms. 'This isn't working.'

'I don't see why I need a costume,' I said irritably as I tossed the tangle of sleeves and capes and glitter onto the shelf next to them. 'I could just not go.'

They both sat up straight.

'You can't not go!' cried Roxy.

'Yeah! Adèle!' Lily echoed.

'Why not? I've never gone before.'

'But this year you have to. You just have to.'

I tried not to say anything too rude, but I couldn't resist rolling my eyes.

'Okay, let's try this,' Lily said, leaning forward. 'What's your dream career? We could find a costume version of that.'

'I don't know,' I said nervously.

Roxy shook her head at me. 'Sexy nurse.'

'What is it with you and sexy costumes?'

'Bunny?' Lily tried.

I wrinkled my nose. 'Too cutesy.'

'Sexy vampire?'

'I really can't pull off sexy, Roxy, you know this.'

'Werewolf?'

'Too scary.'

'Banshee?'

'Too loud.'

'What about a princess?'

'Too frou-frou.'

'Ballerina?'

I hesitated. Not my ideal costume, if I was being honest, but I didn't know what was anymore.

'Yes! Ballerina!'

Roxy and Lily slapped their palms together and Lily ran off, probably to find a costume.

'Wait, I didn't say yes to that…' I protested.

'You paused. We'll take what we can get,' Roxy said with a shrug.

Lily came running back with her arms full of fabric.

'No, just…no,' I said when I saw what she was holding.

'Why?' she asked innocently.

'I don't want to spend all night with a skirt that sticks straight out from my waist.'

'Then what about this one?'

She held out the only dress without tutu skirt and I eyed it skeptically. It was short, red, and covered in jewels. It looked like the dress from _Rubies_.

'You look good in red,' Roxy stated matter-of-factly.

I took it and stepped back behind the curtain. The fabric was smooth against my skin, and the jewels seemed to drip down my sternum. It barely brushed my thighs though, and I tugged on the hem uncertainly.

'Let us see!' Lily called.

I stepped out and planted myself in front of the mirror. Roxy was right, I did look good in red. It set off my hair and made my cheeks look a little pinker.

'You have legs,' Lily said from behind me.

I flushed a little bit. 'I guess.'

'Yes,' Roxy said with an affirmative nod. 'You're getting it.'

'The only problem,' Lily said, tapping her finger against her chin. 'Is that if she's a ballerina, she'll have to have her hair in a bun.'

'I really don't think that's a problem,' I replied.

'But you would look so pretty with your hair down! Don't you think Roxy?'

Roxy nodded. 'We've never seen it down, but we both want to.'

I shook my head. 'It's fine.'

'We'll get you some sparkly things to put in your hair then,' Lily said. 'To match the dress. And some ballet flats and tights.'

'No tights. She should show her legs!'

I raised my eyebrows. 'I'm wearing tights.'

Roxy huffed. 'Fine.'

'Do you have shoes?' Lily asked.

I thought about the ballet slippers tucked beneath my bed. I could charm them white and wear white tights, and then I would look just like the dancers in _Rubies_.

'Yes.'

'Good. Are we set then?'

I took one last long look in the mirror. One whole night dressed like this. In a dress so tiny that only Freya would ever wear it, wearing old ballet slippers and hoping nobody stared too hard at me. I already felt embarrassed. But still… _Rubies_ was my favorite dance, and my mother's. It had been the only solo she'd had before leaving Paris. This dress was almost like an homage to my mother's career. I nodded.

I would get the dress.

xxx

We met up with the rest of their family and a handful of their unrelated friends in the Three Broomsticks. There were so many people that we took up about three of the bigger tables. Everyone else was being loud and energetic, and it was easy for me to fade into the background. I sipped my Butterbeer and watched them, and no one seemed to even notice I was there until it got late and people started to leave.

Eventually, it was just me, Freddy, Lily, Louis and Hugo. Lily's head rested on my arm and she seemed to be falling asleep, and it looked like Hugo was doing schoolwork.

'Dammit,' Freddy said when he looked around. 'Mind splitting the bill with me Lou? Pops didn't give me enough to cover all these wankers.'

Louis shrugged and the two of them bent over the cheque. I pulled out a few Sickles, but they waved them away.

'We're not in the House of chivalry for nothing, Adèle the Sarcastic Girl in Muggle Studies,' Freddy said airily.

'What did you call her?' Louis asked, amused.

'Yes, well I can't quite seem to come up with an appropriate title for her. At first she was Adèle the Not-so-Quiet Girl in Muggle Studies but that was too long, and then she was Adèle the Sarcastic Gryffindor, but there are plenty of sarcastic Gryffindors, so that didn't work. Then I tried Adèle the Bunhead but that didn't seem quite right either.'

'Adèle the Sarcastic Girl in Muggle Studies is a bust too,' Louis told him.

'I thought it was one of the better ones actually,' I said. 'Better than Adèle the Cauldron Popper.'

'Oh yes, I forgot about that one didn't I? Not to worry! We'll come up with something!'

'Do I have a title?' Louis asked.

'Yes. Louis the Veela. Same as your mum and sisters. And Lily is Lily the mini-Potter, and Hugo is Hugo the Worrier,' Freddy explained.

I grinned.

'What about James?'

'James the Quidditch Nut.'

'Rose?'

'Rose the Book Nut.'

'Al?'

'Al the Gullible.'

'How did you not know this?' I asked Louis. 'He uses these all the time.'

'I don't pay attention to everything Freddy says. I don't have time for that.'

'Mmm,' I nod. 'Makes sense.'

'You wound me, Adèle the Cruel One,' Freddy said, pressing a hand over his heart.

'How am I the cruel one when I was just agreeing with Louis?'

'Oh. Yes. Alright.'

Lily yawned and rubbed her eyes. 'What time is it?'

'Time for you to get a watch!' Freddy said cheerfully.

'Really Freddy?' I asked.

'That joke is too old,' Louis agreed.

'What is this? Prosecute Freddy Day?' Freddy cried, flinging his arms out to the side.

He accidentally knocked his hand into Hugo's head, and Hugo's glasses fell from their already-precarious perch onto the floor. Lily, Louis and I all laughed. Freddy looked chagrinned.

'Sorry Hugo the Worrier,' he said as he helped Hugo find the frames.

'Please stop calling me that.'

'Not a chance.'

Louis and I exchanged a glance over Lily's head, and he nodded his head towards the door. I shook Lily a little to wake her back up, and the three of us stood.

'Wait!' Hugo called, ramming his glasses back onto his nose.

When the five of us finally made it back to the castle, it was late and the stars were starting to come out. Zara and the others weren't in the dorm, so I changed quickly and headed down to my room. Half-way there, I ran into James.

'Adèle! Where are you off to?'

'Er - nowhere,' I replied.

'Dinner right? Let's go.'

He kept walking, obviously expecting me to join him. I didn't really have a choice.

'Come to think of it, I don't think I see you at dinner very often,' James said with a frown.

'I'm not always hungry at night,' I said truthfully. Usually I was too sore to notice hunger pains, and eating was the last thing on my mind after a dance class.

He nodded thoughtfully. 'Weird, but whatever.'

When we reached the Great Hall, Lily and Roxy were in the midst of telling everyone about their costumes.

'Enthusiastic much?' I asked Roxy when she nearly hit me with a roll.

'Sorry,' she said unabashedly.

I picked at the bit of chicken breast on my plate, using my fork to peel off the skin before taking a bite. Freddy tossed a roll at me.

'You need carbs, love,' he explained when I glared at him.

I left as soon as I could without being rude. Up in my room I started to dance the _Rubies_ solo. It was a difficult one though, and I kept stumbling at all the wrong moments. I wanted to give up, but I just gritted my teeth and kept dancing.

Then, as it was ending, I fell. I had been moving my hips back and forth while standing en pointe, and lost my balance. My arms flung out to stop my fall, but my knee twisted beneath me. I let out a cry of pain. My palms stung and my wrists ached from the impact, and my legs were the sorest they'd ever been, but all that seemed to vanish when I realized just how bad my knee hurt.

It was twisted beneath me at an odd angle, and pain radiated from it, traveling all the way up to my hip and down to my ankle. I touched it gently and it seemed to throb under my hand. I stuffed my fist into my mouth and bit down hard, trying not to scream.

I'd fallen before. I'd injured myself before. I'd twisted my ankle rather badly on two separate occasions and pulled my hamstrings on both legs. I'd bruised my tailbone and several bones in my toe. Pain and injuries were not new things to dancers, but this was different. It felt like I'd broken something.

I was alone too. I didn't know how I'd get to the Hospital Wing. For a long time I just lay on the floor, hoping against hope that the pain would go away. It didn't. After maybe an hour, I forced myself to stand. There was a pair of crutches in the corner, next to a door.

My room often produced new doors that created passageways leading wherever I needed to go, so I assumed this one would take me to the Hospital Wing. I took the crutches and heaved open the door. There was nothing else to do but start hobbling away.

I reached the end of the corridor quickly and found myself staring at the door to the Hospital Wing. I pushed my way through the doors and looked around for Madame Pomfrey. All I could think of was _it hurts it hurts it hurts_. I stumbled over to one of the beds and collapsed. I heard Madame Pomfrey come out of her office and dash over to me. I mumbled something about my leg and a moment later I felt something hot trickle down my throat. The world turned black.

xxx

The light was foggy and soft when I came to. It was probably early morning. Madame Pomfrey was bustling around, adjusting the pillows on the other beds, straightening sheets. When she noticed I was awake, she stopped moving around and stood with her hands on her hips.

'You tore a ligament,' she told me. 'Care to tell me how that happened?'

'I fell,' I whispered. My throat ached.

She looked skeptical, but nodded. 'I fixed you all up. Take it easy for the next couple days, no running, no dancing or any other exertion. You should be fine by Wednesday.'

I tensed under the sheets. No exertion until Wednesday. I tried to think of a loophole, but my mind still felt fuzzy. No dance. For three days.

Madame Pomfrey set a tray on my lap, heavy with food. 'Eat. You'll feel better.'

I stared at the tray. It held a bowl of chicken soup and one of applesauce, a cup of water, a slice of bread with butter. I could see Madame Pomfrey watching me from the corners of her eyes, making sure I ate while she bustled about with the other few patients.

I ate slowly, finishing the soup, then the applesauce, but leaving the bread. I felt heavy when I finished. It was a good thing I couldn't dance: I'd probably have a problem with my leaps and jetés.

Madame Pomfrey didn't let me go until after lunch, so I headed straight for Potions.

'Where've you been?' James asked as I took my seat. 'You weren't at breakfast and Freddy said you weren't in Muggle Studies.'

'Hospital Wing,' I replied. 'I fell last night.'

James looked shocked. 'Are you okay?'

'Yeah. Everybody falls at some point don't they?'

'I didn't think you ever would though. You're so graceful.'

I smiled at him. 'Well, thank you. But I'm still human.'

'A deer-like human. Or maybe bird-like. With bird bones.'

I shot him a look and he laughed, holding up his hands in defense. I couldn't help but grin at him.

'Whatever Potter.'

We managed to get through class without popping any more cauldrons, and when we left I told him I had work to do and walked straight to my room. When I finally pulled the door open and stepped inside, I started to feel a bit better. I felt a twinge of pain in my leg, but I knew I was probably imagining things. My leg was fine. Madame Pomfrey said so.

I wandered out into the center of the floor, dropping my school bag by the wall as I did so. I tossed my robes to the side and stared at my reflection. Underneath my plaid school skirt, my legs looked long and lean. You'd never have known that I'd just torn my ACL. I turned and studied my legs from the side. They were long. And muscular. I flexed my uninjured leg, stretching it out, pointing my toe, watching the way my muscles moved beneath my skin. I lifted my skirt and studied my thigh, flexing and bending my leg as I did so. Lily had told me I had legs, and I guess I did. I liked my legs. They were strong. Perfect for dancing.

My eyes moved up. Walsh and Zara and the others all called me Stick, and the Weasleys were always forcing food into my hands. I was skinny, sure. To them. I unbuttoned my shirt and let it hang open, eyeing my stomach. If I stood straight, posture perfect, abdominal muscles tensed, poised to spring the way I often was with Walsh roaming the halls, my stomach was flat, smooth, hard, almost concave. My muscles were outlined faintly. I looked good. But as soon as I relaxed, let myself slouch a little, dropped my shoulders, stopped flexing, my belly expanded. Not much, but there was a definite roundness to it. It was an imperfection.

My mother told me that her teachers used to criticize their bodies. Tell them to lose weight, to tighten up. She told me that one time, a particularly harsh teacher had told one girl to lose weight in her breasts, as if that was something she could control. I had no teachers to tell me these things, but I lived entirely for pleasing them someday, if I ever met them when I graduated.

I shook my head in the mirror. I would need to fix my stomach. Crunches. And no more meat.

My eyes moved up a little more. My own breasts were nonexistent - literally. I had never quite hit puberty, because the intense daily exercise delayed it. I'd never even had a period, and I was sixteen. I was flat chested; all of me was just flat and straight. Except my hips. I stared at the offending bones in the mirror. My waist was narrow, but my hips flared out a tiny bit, creating an hourglass figure that I knew from Zara and Freya's nightly gossip sessions was desirable to the rest of the world, but a dancer shouldn't have an hourglass figure. A dancer should have a figure like an adolescent boy's: straight, firm, curveless.

I wasn't sure what to do about my hips. They stuck out too far and I hated them. I knew from experience that changing my eating habits would only wipe away the fat on them, and there wasn't any. It was the bones themselves I hated. I supposed I could try transfiguring them into hip bones of a more agreeable size and shape, but that was advanced transfiguration, and I had gotten a D in that OWL.

I buttoned my shirt back up, frowning. I watched my arms as I did this. They were too small. Ballet didn't require great amounts of upper body strength from its female dancers but it did require some, and my arms were alright for that, but if I didn't get into my mother's old corps de ballet, I'd need to dance at least a little hip-hop, which required much more arm strength to do all the flips and handstands and different balancing tricks. And while yes, I could support my body on one hand, I couldn't do it for very long. My arms would give out. I'd have to do a lot of arm work during the next few days of dance-less-ness.

I pulled my robes back on and stared into the mirror again. I wasn't tall enough for ballet, I was an inch shorter than my mother at least. I didn't have the attitude for hip-hop or burlesque. I obviously had some balance issues; my injured knee spoke to that. Nobody paid for tap dancers anymore, unless they were doing some fancy themed party and wanted people to dress up like Sammy Davies and Gene Kelly. Same was true for jazz dancers. There were ballroom competitions, but there was no real money in it and it meant I'd have to find a partner, which didn't really appeal to me. So I could be a stripper or a street performer.

I sighed and grabbed my bag, leaving the room behind. I'd never make it as a dancer. I don't know why I kept trying.

xxx

For the next few days, I worked out almost constantly. I avoided my room and the mirrors there and in my bathroom, refusing to look at my body until I could dance again and I'd worked away all the excess fat on my stomach and built up my arms. When that day finally came, I bounced into my room happily, stripped off my clothes and stood naked in front of the mirror. I studied my body from the front, the sides, the back, moving each muscle in turn and studying my arms and waist and hips and thighs. I looked better. Not perfect, but better.

I relevéd then lifted my leg into an arabesque, using my previously injured leg as the supporting leg and relishing in the slight burn I felt coursing through it. My muscles were working. I would get back in shape.

I pulled on a leotard and tights, sewed myself into a pair of pointe shoes and warmed up. When I finished that, I moved to the center and the music started up again for the _Rubies_ solo. I had decided on one long and lonely night of crunches and curls to divide the dance into sections to learn and perfect each piece separately instead of trying to attack the entire difficult dance at once. The music started. I danced.


	5. Dancing Juliette

On Halloween, all classes were canceled. I guess the professors figured that there was no point to trying to teach on a day when everyone would only be able to think about the feast and the parties each of the houses was throwing afterward. I spent most of the day in my room, making up adagio and allegro combinations, pushing myself as hard as I could. By the time I left the room to get ready for the feast, I was exhausted.

I flopped onto my bed and tried to nap as Freya and Caitlin ran around with bits of different costumes and Zara let Chloë curl her hair. It was useless. An hour before the party there was a knock on the door, and Freya flung it open to show Roxy and Lily, all dressed in their costumes, standing there waiting for me.

'You didn't tell us you were babysitting tonight Adèle,' she said with a slight sneer.

'Well you didn't tell her you suffered from severe bitch disease when you started living together, so I think it's fair,' Roxy retorted.

I sat up. 'Hi.'

Lily gasped. 'Adèle! You're not even dressed!'

'I thought I'd go naked, actually,' I said conversationally. 'Make a statement you know? About how we're all posers and this is the one day a year we don't lie to ourselves about that.'

'How would you being naked make a statement about that?' Roxy asked, confused.

'It'd be like a shout of protest. "I'm not going to hide anymore!" That sort of thing.'

She nodded. Lily looked aghast. I grinned at her.

'You're joking right?' she asked faintly.

'No Lils, I'm dead serious.'

I couldn't keep a straight face though, and when Roxy and I finally started laughing she yelled at us and threw a sock at me.

I ducked and grabbed the shopping bag with my costume in it, heading into the bathroom to change. I pulled on the white tights I found in my trunk and then slid the dress over my head, twisting this way and that to zip it all the way up. It felt shorter than I remembered. I had charmed the ballet slippers white the night before and when I had sewed myself into them and twisted my hair into a neat chignon, I really started to feel like a ballerina.

'Can you help me decide where to put the little sparkly bits?' I asked, coming out of the bathroom with the hair clips.

Lily and Roxy looked up from where they were arguing on my bed.

'Wow Adèle,' Lily said slowly. 'You look great.'

'Positively spiffing!' I heard Zara exclaim with a false enthusiasm from the other side of the room.

'Really stunning Adèle,' Freya chimed in. 'What are you, some kind of stripper?'

'She's one of those funny little sparkly ladies at the circus,' Chloë said. 'You know, the ones with the little sequined dresses who get the knives thrown at them.'

'Oh! Can we throw knives at you Adèle?' Zara asked.

'Why don't we go down to our dorm?' Roxy suggested and I nodded.

I grabbed my makeup bag and the hairpins and we trotted down three flights to their room. It was the same room I'd had three years earlier so I didn't look around much. The other girls in there watched us uncertainly, as if they were expecting Roxy to start throwing things while Lily yelled at her. And from the look of things, that was what happened before they came up to get me.

Lily sat me on her bed and started poking at my head with the sparkly bits. Roxy sorted through my makeup.

'What the hell is this?' she asked, holding up my pancake foundation.

'Er - stage makeup. My mums,' I answered.

She tossed it aside and kept looking through everything. By the time Lily was done stabbing my hair she had gathered up an eyeshadow palette, powder, blush, eyeliner, mascara and lipgloss. My false eyelashes were in a pile with the pancake and all of my other favorite things. But Roxy had set aside the things that would give me a more natural look, not the full stage look, and I realized that was probably a better idea.

A full face of stage makeup usually took me twenty minutes, but with Lily and Roxy 'helping' it took twice that. Their room was empty when we finished, and so was the common room. We ran down to the feast late.

' _What_ are you wearing?' Freddy yelled when he saw us.

Roxy smiled impishly, striking a pose in her tight pirate costume. 'Do you like my costume?'

Lily and I giggled.

'Why didn't you stop her?' Freddy asked, rounding on us.

'Nobody can stop her when she gets an idea in her head,' I told him. Lily nodded in agreement.

Freddy stood there, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. He was, for the first time since I'd known him, speechless.

We took our seats, and I remembered why I'd skipped out on this little tradition every year. The room was loud, and everyone bounced with barely suppressed energy. I felt crowded, suffocated. There was hardly any room to move.

The food was good though. I munched happily on a fruit-filled green salad while Roxy shook her head at me.

'Rabbit food,' she said scornfully.

'Good food,' I replied.

The rest of her family agreed with her, I knew, but they didn't say anything. After an interminably long time, people started filing out of the Great Hall, heading for their common rooms. The real party was starting.

Freddy convinced us to stay downstairs, so we could be 'fashionably late.' Roxy and I rolled our eyes but we waited with him anyway. When we finally made our way up to the common room, Roxy and Lily ran off to the dance floor and Freddy disappeared in search of Firewhiskey. I stood awkwardly by the side, waiting for a chance to duck out of the room.

'Not enjoying yourself?' Louis asked, materializing at my side.

I surveyed the room. 'Never really been to one of these before.'

'Quoi?' he looked over at me, shocked. 'Tu n'aimes pas les fetes?'

'Non, pas tellement.'

'Mais quand tu seras avec nous, il faut aimer ces choses!'

'Personne ne m'a dit,' I said with a shrug.

'Eh bien je te dis maintenant. Vous pourrez profiter de cette fête Adèle,' he replied.

And with that, he grabbed my hand and pulled me onto the dance floor. I made a little sound of protest when I saw where we were headed, but he didn't stop. I could see Roxy and Lily doing a funny little bouncing dance over the side, Freddy twirling a petite fifth year, and Caitlin and Freya were mashing their bodies together and looking around to see if any boys were looking.

I was a dancer, yes, but I didn't know how to do this sort of thing. Crowded, unchoreographed, hot and sweaty. This was not what I was used to, and I wasn't sure what to do. I ended up mimicking the movements of the people around me: swaying my hips and holding my arms up, knees bent, weight balanced on my toes. After a while, everything seemed to blur together. The masses of people merged and flowed like a sea, and time didn't really matter. The music didn't matter either; the steps didn't change much song to song.

I was vaguely aware of Louis dancing next to me, of Freddy and James making brief appearances, of Roxy and Lily coming over and resuming their bouncy dance somewhere nearby. I found myself wishing there was mirror in front of me, something to check my form in. But Louis was smiling at me, so I took that as a sign that I was doing alright.

At a pause, we stepped off to the side to grab a Butterbeer. It felt cold and wet trickling down my throat, so different from the hot, stuffy room. Louis leaned down and said something to me, grinning, but I couldn't hear him. I touched my ear and shook my head, and he nodded like he understood. Before I could react, he took my hand and pulled me out of the room. I caught a glimpse of Freya and Caitlin glaring at me as the portrait hole swung shut.

'It is loud in there isn't it?' Louis said casually.

He dropped my hand and shook his head like he was shaking water out of his ears. I pressed my lips together to hide a smile.

'Very,' I replied.

'I suppose I can see why you never come to these things.'

We leaned against the railing set up along the edge of the corridor and looked down. We could see all the way to the ground floor from here, several stories. I tipped my head to the side. Being this high up made my feet tingle with adrenaline. I sipped at my Butterbeer, trying to ignore the feeling.

'I'm glad you did though,' Louis said beside me.

'What?' I asked, glancing over at him.

'I'm glad you came. Made the whole thing that much more…exciting.'

He wiggled his eyebrows at me and I laughed, giving him a light shove on the shoulder.

'You do look good tonight though,' he continued.

I smiled. 'Thanks. You don't look too shabby yourself. I was definitely getting some hate stares back there.'

He was dressed as some sort of Muggle aristocrat from the 1800s or something, without all the face paint and wigs.

He wrinkled his nose. 'Only because I'm a veela. Part veela anyway.'

'What do you mean?'

'I mean, people - girls mostly - only like me because I'm part veela. I'm only like an eighth veela, but they don't care.'

I blinked in shock. 'Do you really think that?'

'Well yeah,' he said, like it was obvious.

I shook my head at him. 'It might have started out that way, but I don't know about then. I do know that now, at _least_ half the reason people like you is because of, well, _you._ '

Louis gave me a funny look, but I pressed on before he could say anything.

'You're like this white knight, and anyone who's ever talked to you knows exactly why you were sorted into Gryffindor. You're brave. And besides that, you're nice. I mean, right now you could be in there hooking up with some girl but instead you're out here. Talking to me. And when you talk to people you actually listen to them, and you remember what they say. You make people feel special.'

He frowned. 'That's just common courtesy.'

'Common courtesy isn't so common anymore.'

He still looked skeptical, but after a long pause he sighed and swayed forward against the railings. 'I still don't get how that makes me a "white knight".'

I blushed and shrugged. 'That's what Caitlin likes to call you. She has a massive crush on you. And maybe I can see why. Do you remember when we first met? And you saved me from Walsh, even though you really didn't have to? That's when I realized that maybe Caitlin was right about something.'

'You can see why she has a crush on me, or you can see why she calls me a white knight?'

I smirked at him. 'Both, I guess.'

Louis laughed and turned so that his back was to the railing, his elbows propped up on it, leaning back.

'Do you know why they all hate you?' he asked me. 'If we knew that, I might have to do a lot less saving you.'

I shrugged again. 'Search me.'

'Don't mind if I do,' he said with a flirtatious smile.

I laughed and pushed him away.

'I know why Walsh hates you at least, if you'd like to know,' he continued.

'Really?' I asked. 'Why?'

'He's gay.'

'I don't follow.'

'Well,' Louis said, turning to face me. 'He's from one of those old pureblood families, right? I'm sure you've heard him brag about it at some point. And those old families, the _really_ old ones, they don't like any of this new-fangled homosexuality stuff. So Walsh stuffs it, deep down inside. And he hates them, all the old families, for being like this.'

'Why does that mean he hates me though? I'm a Muggle-born.'

'Because you have that aristocratic face that all the pureblood families have.'

'He hates me because I have a straight nose?'

'And the way you hold yourself. You're sort of…regal. Perfect posture, graceful, and quiet. Above it all. Aloof.'

'He hates me because of the way I walk?'

Louis sighed. 'You make it sound so petty.'

'It is petty!' I protested.

'Alright, maybe it is. It's still true.'

'Whatever,' I said, turning back to the railing.

I drained the last of the Butterbeer in my bottle and held it over the edge.

'Dare me to drop this?' I asked.

Louis grinned. 'Do it.'

I let go of the bottle and we watched it fall. There was a long drop, and when it hit the ground we heard it shatter. Then we heard a shriek and a lot of cursing. Louis and I leaped away from railing.

'Go go go!' Louis shoved me down the corridor and behind a tapestry into a smallish classroom.

I laughed as the tapestry swung shut like a door, hiding us. I wandered over to the window at the far end of the room, and Louis sat down in a partially broken desk in the middle of the room.

'Tell me about yourself,' he said suddenly.

'What?'

'I kind of get the feeling that you never talk about yourself. Roxy and Lily don't actually know all that much about you. They didn't even really know you were French until you started speaking it in front of them.'

'That's because they always sort of dominate conversations. It can be kind of hard to fit a word in edgewise.'

'Right, well now I'm giving you a chance to talk. I'd tell you about myself too, but my whole family history was covered in first year History of Magic,' he explained.

'Alright,' I said hesitantly. 'What do you want to know?'

'Anything. What about your parents? Who's French? Your mum or dad?'

'Both I think. I never met my dad and Mama refuses to talk about him.'

'Why'd she move to England? To get away from him or something?'

'To get away from everything. My grandmother died the year before I was born, and she didn't have any other family. And she couldn't work at her job and take care of a baby, so when she quit the job, she had nothing left to stay in France for. She said there was nothing left there but ghosts.'

'What job did she have?'

I paused.

'I mean, if you don't want to tell me…' he said, backtracking hastily.

'No, it's okay. She was a ballerina. A dancer in the corps de ballet dans l'Opera national de Paris.'

Louis eyebrows shot up. 'Really? That's amazing. My mum's a balletomane. Obsessed with ballet. She takes me and my sisters to see the Nutcracker every year at Christmas, and she takes Victoire to see Swan Lake on her birthday and Dominique to see Giselle.'

I smiled a little, feeling a bit wistful. 'I'd love to dance the part of Giselle.'

'Do you dance too?'

'A little.'

'Is that why you're dressed as a ballerina tonight?' he asked.

I could feel my face growing warm. 'Maybe.'

'You know, I took dance classes for a while, at this studio in London. I hated it,' he said conversationally. He leaned back in his seat, tucking his hands behind his head.

'Yeah?'

'Yeah. I was terrible. An embarrassment to the studio.'

I laughed. 'Really?'

'That's what Madame Skvortsov told me after my first and only recital.'

I laughed again at the idea of a younger Louis trying to dance ballet.

'I'm sure you're much better than I was.'

'I'm sure.'

We sat there for a minute, smiling at each other.

'You should dance.'

I blinked. 'What, right now?'

'Yes! I want to see how good you are,' Louis said excitedly.

I blushed and shook my head. 'No, no I couldn't.'

'Why not?'

'It's…embarrassing. I just couldn't.'

'You'll have to someday.'

'But not today.'

'Why not?'

'Because.'

Louis sighed in exasperation. 'Adèle.'

'Louis,' I said, mimicking his tone.

'Please?'

'No.'

There was a long pause before I spoke again.

'Tell me something about you.'

'What?' Louis looked up, distracted.

'It's only fair. I told you that I want to be a dancer - which I've never told anyone at this school by the way, don't know how you got it out of me - so you should give me a little something in return.'

I cocked my head and studied him. His eyes were locked on me, and he seemed to be laughing a little, inside. Of courses, he almost always looked like that, so I really shouldn't have been surprised. He stood up like he was about to pace and his expression turned almost thoughtful.

'Something no one else knows?' he asked.

'Yes.'

He leaned close to me, his lips less than an inch from my ear. 'I really like ballerinas.'

I turned my head a little to look at him, but before I could do anything, his lips pressed against mine.

I froze. I'd been kissed twice before, by awkward Muggle boys who weren't quite sure what to do with all the different bits of their mouth. This was completely different. My lips tingled. My breath caught. My heart stopped for just a moment and then restarted, faster. His hands just touched my chin, and then he was gone. When I opened my eyes, the tapestry was swinging shut behind him.

I don't know how long I stood in that spot. It was like my feet were rooted to the floor. I cupped my hand over my mouth, hoping to hold that tingly feeling there just a little longer. I felt almost dizzy, but in a good way.

When I finally arrived back in the common room, the party was winding down. Only a few people were left, drunk and senseless for the most part. I made my way up the stairs. My dorm was empty. I knew the other girls would all be off hooking up with people they'd regret touching in the morning, so I showered to wash off the makeup and crawled into bed where I lay wide awake.

My first kiss had been the summer I was twelve. I met a boy at a friend's birthday party in June, and that night we played Spin the Bottle. He kissed me, briefly and wetly, and we never spoke again. My second kiss had been the summer I was fifteen. I had been set up on a date with my mama's co-workers nephew, and he had taken me to the movies and walked me home and kissed me goodnight. That kiss had been just as brief as the first one, but more awkward. There hadn't been a second date.

But Louis's kiss…that had been different. It had been soft, and not too wet, and it had lasted long enough for me to know it was happening, but not so long that it became…more. It had been nice. Real. I don't really know how to describe it. I just knew that, suddenly, it was all I could think about.

xxx

I woke up late the next morning. My dormmates still weren't back to rush around and wake me up, and I was exhausted. The night before I had lain awake going over what had happened again and again, until I couldn't keep my eyes open anymore. It was too late to go down to breakfast, so I went straight to Muggle Studies, where Freddy spent the whole class making jokes about the different costumes people had worn, and then to Charms.

Professor Flitwick gave me a long look when I came in, and when we began to pair off to practice non-verbal Cheering Charms he stepped over to me and asked me to stay after class. I did, nervously.

'Adèle,' he said when I approached him. 'Do you like this class?'

'I don't know,' I said, confused. 'It's alright.'

'To be honest,' he continued. 'I don't know why you chose to continue this course at NEWT level. You are talented in Charms, but you don't seem to enjoy yourself.'

I fidgeted.

'I'd ask you to consider a tutor, but I'm not sure you would.'

I fidgeted some more.

'You need to put more effort into academics Adèle. I would hate to have to fail you.'

I nodded and he dismissed me. When I left the room I felt tears pricking my eyes. It wasn't because I cared about Charms so deeply that I was devastated to be failing it, it was just the fact that there was something else I had failed. It hurt.

I went straight to my room. My thoughts were racing and I knew I couldn't dance ballet as I had been almost exclusively the previous weeks. I kicked off my shoes and skirt and tossed my button-up to the side. Wearing just tights and a vest, I danced to a fast, angry hip-hop song. I watched myself in the mirror, trying to move faster, faster, but still stay on-beat. I oozed through some steps and then hit others hard, keeping my muscles taut and lengthening each limb, extending it as far as it would go.

I placed one palm flat against the ground and swung the rest of my body into the air, holding my free arm out to the side, perpendicular to my body. The music paused and I clenched my legs tightly together, keeping my toes pointed to the ceiling. When the music slammed its way back into the room, I rolled off my hand and landed, neatly.

I was exhilarated. That was a difficult move, one I hadn't been able to do perfectly before, and I moved through the rest of the dance, too elated to notice my aching muscles and throbbing feet.

I danced all through lunch, leaving regretfully when it was time to go to Potions.

'Didn't see you at lunch,' James commented casually when I walked into the dungeon. 'Or at breakfast.'

'I was busy,' I replied.

I put down my bag.

'Saw you at the party last night though,' he continued.

I looked over at him and saw him smirking. I wondered briefly how much of last night he knew about.

'Mm,' I said noncommittally.

'Have a nice time?'

'Sure.'

'A _really_ nice time?'

I looked up at him, pretending to be confused. 'What are you talking about?'

He shrugged. 'Nothing.'

We started to work on the Potion we'd left unfinished the day before, and before class was over we had managed to melt the bottom of the cauldron and had the entire class standing on their desks.

'You amaze me,' I told James as we left the class. 'I didn't realize someone could get to NEWT level Potions and still melt cauldron bottoms.'

'What can I say?' James said, spreading his arms out wide. 'I have a gift.'

I laughed at that and then ran to Herbology, hoping I wouldn't be late.

When classes were over I worked out for ages - crunches and curls - before realizing I hadn't eaten all day and running down to the Great Hall for dinner. It wasn't until I sat down that I realized just how hungry I was, so I took a chicken breast and a pile of peas and a scoop of potatoes.

'Fancy seeing you down here Adèle,' Roxy said, watching me.

'I got hungry,' I replied.

I looked up to see Louis staring very hard at his plate. It seemed like he was avoiding my gaze.

'Hungry,' Roxy said skeptically. 'You?'

'I'm still human, love. I do eat.'

'Could've fooled me.'

I rolled my eyes at her and risked another glance at Louis. He was still determinedly looking anywhere but me. My chest tightened a little bit and I sighed.

xxx

It went on like that for days. I didn't realize how much I had enjoyed Louis's company until it was gone. Sure we hadn't known each other that long, but it was nice to irritate Freddy and Roxy by prattling away in French about absolutely nothing. On November fifth, things took a dramatic turn for the worse.

There was another attack. The Nouveaux Mangemorts attacked a small Muggle village, killing five people and torturing several others. People walked around the school like zombies, terrified that this group would make their way to Hogwarts. It was strongly suspected that they would. James told me grimly over breakfast that these types of groups often tried to move into schools to indoctrinate students. After all, I was informed, the opinions you develop now usually last your whole life.

I have to admit, at that, my blood ran cold. The idea that people like this would try to brainwash us was horrible. They wouldn't be afraid of using dark magic to achieve that end either.

Every class slowly became focused on protection. We learned about common plants that could be used as antidotes to various poisons in Herbology, practiced shield charms in Charms, learned about the Muggle's guerilla warfare in Muggle Studies and brewed Fire-Protection Potion in Potions. It was while we were doing that that James proposed his mad idea to me.

'You want to do _what_?' I hissed at him.

'Restart Dumbledore's Army,' he said calmly. 'Even if the Nouveaux Mangemorts don't come to Hogwarts, we should know how to protect ourselves against them and all those other crazies out there.'

'But - that's just -' I stopped, unsure what to say.

'We need to do it Adèle. At the very least it will make people feel better.'

'Who's going to teach everyone? You?'

'Er, well, see I was thinking Louis,' he said, flushing.

My eyes widened a little.

'Look, I know you two haven't been on the best of terms recently, Merlin knows why, but he's the best at this sort of thing. Uncle Bill taught him a lot last summer after he turned seventeen, and he's the best dueler this school has seen in years.'

I stared at the cauldron, willing it not to boil over.

'Adèle?'

'You can restart the D.A. if you want,' I told him. 'But I won't join.'

James looked upset.

'No,' I said, holding up my hand before he could protest. 'I won't. I have too much to think about right now, I can't go adding intense extracurriculars to my schedule.'

James stared at me for a long moment, then nodded. 'If you change your mind, we're having a meeting in the Three Broomsticks next Hogsmeade weekend. To plan.'

'I won't change my mind,' I said assuredly.

And then the cauldron boiled over.


	6. Dance Away

The fact that Louis was going to be teaching the New D.A. wasn't actually the entire reason I didn't want to join. If anything, that was an incentive for me to sign up. But what I told James was true: I didn't have time for any intense extracurriculars. I was having to study more and more to pass my classes, and I'd had to give up breakfast all together. Now, I woke up early, went for a run, then studied in the Library until classes started. At the end of the day, I studied some more, rehearsed hard, took a quick break to write at least part of an essay, and then rehearsed again. There was barely any time left to sleep or eat, much less join a club.

I tried not to pay attention to the news, but somehow I would hear it anyway. The attacks were getting worse. The Nouveaux Mangemorts had expanded. There had been small pockets of anti-Muggle factions spread throughout the country, and they all decided to join up with the more powerful French group. There were attacks on Muggle villages at least once a week, and a number of Muggle-born witches and wizards had disappeared. So had a few Ministry officials who were trying to pass pro-Muggle legislation. The whole thing was escalating very quickly.

The next Hogsmeade weekend was near the end of the month, and nearly half the school showed up at the Three Broomsticks for the meeting for the New D.A. The professors, I heard later, were not happy. Even though many of them had been in the original D.A., they didn't want us fighting. It was their protective nature, I guessed. The same thing that had kept the original D.A. alive and strong was now attempting to prevent it from restarting.

But James and Louis were very careful to follow all the rules. There was no legal way to keep the New D.A. from forming, so the professors had to let it go. Roxy and Lily were very eager to fill me in on what had happened during the meeting. I hadn't gone, of course. I had chosen to stay in the castle and practice. But the meeting went on, and it went well. Loads of people had signed up, signing a paper that had been jinxed with the same charm that had been on the original D.A.'s roster, one that had been wheedled out of Hermione Weasley by her over-enthusiastic nephews. They all agreed to meet in the Room of Requirement at seven o'clock on the first Wednesday in December.

Nobody told me where the Room of Requirement was. I was left completely out of the loop. I even went back to eating lunch by myself, because all the Weasley-Potters could talk about was the New D.A., and it bored me. I don't think they even noticed.

Walsh noticed though. And so did Zara. They enjoyed teasing me about it. They would ask me where my friends were and then say 'Oh, that's right, you don't have any friends,' or something like that. I just ducked my head and pretended I didn't hear them, and eventually they would leave. This was not exactly my ideal way spending my sixth year at Hogwarts, especially now that I had had a taste of what it would be like to have friends.

xxx

 _Tombé chasée glissade. Grande jete. Arabesque, attitude. Plié in fourth. Pirouette. Arabesque, attitude. Glissade chasée tombé._

I moved through the steps carefully. I tried to move my feet quickly and make my arms look like they were floating from first to second to fifth. My muscles strained. I felt like I must have grown several inches from all this stretching up and out, but when the music ended and my body slumped over in exhaustion I realized that I was still the same height. Shame.

As I straightened up and began to stretch, I could feel the cold seeping through the walls and floors from outside. The snow had started a few weeks earlier, and everything was cold. The air, the floor, the furniture. Most of the time it was miserable, but right after a workout or rehearsal it felt really nice.

I laid back on the floor and propped my legs up against the wall to drain them. I closed my eyes and let the tiredness that had started to come around a few hours earlier finally work its way through my body until it reached my bones. After a moment, I grabbed my bag and dumped out its contents, picking through them until I found my Charms book. I read while I sat there, trying to memorize each paragraph.

Eventually, my heavy eyelids told me it was time to go to sleep, and I left the room, stumbling through the corridors until I reached the Common Room, and then stumbling up the stairs to my dorm. I collapsed into bed without waking Zara, miraculously, and fell asleep in seconds.

This was normal now, I reminded myself as my eyes closed. This is normal, with no Roxy or Lily or Freddy or James. Or Louis.

xxx

Days quickly became monotonous. Even Roxy and Lily stopped visiting as much, caught up with the New D.A. It was the week before we left for the holidays, Wednesday the eighth, when we finally had another conversation.

'Adèle?' Roxy said timidly.

She was standing by the door, holding it open just a crack, and I could just see Lily standing behind her. I was so surprised to hear Roxy saying anything timidly that I forgot to invite her in.

'Are you angry with us?'

I blinked and set my book down. 'No.'

Roxy's face flooded with relief. She and Lily came in, shutting the door behind them and sitting at the foot of my bed. It sort of hit me then, that Roxy may look and act old and sarcastic, but she was still thirteen, and still had that thirteen-year-old's naiveté. It didn't occur to her at all that I might have been lying, or passive-aggressive, or any of those things. She was still so trusting. And a part of me desperately wanted to preserve that, even if she had been ignoring me for the past month.

'I'm really sorry we ignored you,' Lily said, widening her already-big eyes at me.

'Yeah,' Roxy said, nodding.

I smiled a little. 'It's alright. You were busy. And I had loads of work to do any way.'

They smiled back at me. 'Are you sure you don't want to join the New D.A.?'

I nodded once. 'I'm sure.'

They studied me quietly for a second, and I took the time to admire how controlled they were being. Lily hadn't even tried to take Freya's lotion again, so there was a definite improvement in her kleptomania at least.

'What happened with you and Louis anyway?' Lily asked suddenly.

From the corner of my eye, I could see Caitlin and Chloë's heads shoot up. They didn't even pretend they weren't eavesdropping.

I shrugged, uncomfortable. 'Nothing.'

'"Nothing" wouldn't make you two avoid each other like dragon pox. "Nothing" would mean you two would still be friends,' Roxy pointed out.

Damn her and her precociousness.

'It's complicated,' I said, fidgeting with a page of my Potions book. I'd been trying to study when they walked in.

'Un-complicate it,' Lily said simply.

I looked down, then pointed my wand at the bed hangings and they snapped shut. I cast _Muffliato_ around us so Caitlin and Chloë couldn't overhear us. I had been getting better at these little spells because of all the practice I was putting in now, and I was proud. Honestly, half the reason I cast _Muffliato_ was to show off a little.

'He kissed me.'

I spoke softly, but apparently they knew exactly what I said because they jumped up on my bed and started squealing and dancing around. When they finally acted their age, they had to do it at ear-splitting decibels.

'When? When?'

'Halloween.'

Roxy dropped back down beside me. 'Isn't that when you two started acting weird around each other?'

'Yeah,' I said, picking at the duvet.

'So what happened after he kissed you?' Lily asked.

'He ran out of the room. And then he started avoiding me. He never looks at me. And a little while ago I saw him leave the Common Room when I walked into it.'

They both looked confused. 'Why would he avoid you?'

'I dunno. Maybe he was drunk? And the next morning he realized that he kissed me and he didn't want to kiss me and he was embarrassed?'

Lily shook her head wildly, red hair flying everywhere. 'Louis doesn't get drunk. He hates anything stronger than Butterbeer. Freddy's always saying something about it.'

'Then why would he do that?'

Tears pricked at the back of my eyes and I flopped backwards, pressing the heels of my hands against my eyes. I hadn't realized I was this upset.

'It's 'cause he's a wanker,' Roxy said confidently. 'All our cousins are, really.'

'But he's not a wanker!' I protested. 'He's the nicest bloke I've ever met and apparently I'm such an atrocious kisser that he had to run off in the middle of a snog -'

'I'm sure you're not an atrocious kisser,' Lily said soothingly, interrupting my rant. 'It's really not all that hard to kiss. As long as you didn't shove your tongue down his throat, I'm sure it's fine.'

'How do you know so much about kissing?' I asked, sniffling.

She blushed. 'Don't, er, don't tell my brothers yeah? They'd be so upset with me.'

'And he is a wanker,' Roxy insisted. 'A plonker, a smarmy git, a tosser, a gormless prat…'

She blinked at me, waiting for a response.

'You might like insulting people a little too much,' I said.

'I can't help it if all the best words are insults,' she replied with a shrug. 'I'd say he's a posh toff too, but our whole family is, so I can't go insulting _all_ of us. After all, Lils and I aren't as awful as the rest of them.'

I rolled my eyes at her.

' _Any_ way,' Lily continued. 'Whatever happened, I'm sure it's not your fault. And if you like him, you should go talk to him.'

'I can't just talk to him.'

'I don't understand you,' Lily said. 'Dominique would do this too, remember Roxy? And Rose, and Molly and Lucy. The minute they start to like some bloke it's all "oh no, I could never just _talk_ to him, I have to play hard to get!" and they would make themselves miserable wondering why the poor fool never talked to them when they were practically running away whenever they saw him!'

Roxy and Lily shook their heads in unison.

'But, no, see it's because he's the one who started avoiding me. If I try to talk to him, he's just going to leave again,' I explained.

'No he's not. But, whatever Adèle. We can't help you if you don't talk to him,' Roxy said tiredly.

xxx

 _Step-ball change-step-fan kick-step-hitch kick-step-jazz square-step-piqué turn-step-pivot turn-grapevine-cut-chasé-fan kick-touch-step-stop._

My breath came in ragged gasps. 'Again.'

The music restarted. I waited for my cue.

 _Step-ball change-step-fan kick-step-hitch kick-step-jazz square-step-piqué turn-step-pivot turn-grapevine-cut-chasé-fan kick-touch-step-stop._

Louis was avoiding me? Well, the music wasn't. 'Again.'

 _Step-ball change-step-fan kick-step-hitch kick-step-jazz square-step-piqué turn-step-pivot turn-grapevine-cut-chasé-fan kick-touch-step-stop._

Louis thought I was a terrible kisser? Well Merlin, he hadn't given me half a chance! Didn't even give me time to prepare. Just came out of nowhere with those _lips_ and then stopped before I could even respond properly!

'Again.'

 _Step-ball change-step-fan kick-step-hitch kick-step-jazz square-step-piqué turn-step-pivot turn-grapevine-cut-chasé-fan kick-touch-step-stop._

I mean, it wasn't like I'd had a whole lot of practice. And he probably had. Bloody veela.

And wasn't it etiquette or whatever to call a girl the day after a hookup? If that was the case, it had to be etiquette to at least look at her the day after you give her a kiss. Not even that good of a kiss either, if I'm being honest. It was much too short and his lips were much too soft and he was too bloody gorgeous for it to be a good kiss.

Alright, so maybe I'm lying, but can you blame me? Bloody _boys._

'Again.'

 _Step-ball change-step-fan kick-step-hitch kick-step-jazz square-step-piqué turn-step-pivot turn-grapevine-cut-chasé-fan kick-touch-step-stop._

My jazz squares are lopsided. I've been doing jazz squares since I learned to _walk_. This is what I get for letting bloody Louis work his way into my head like this.

'Again.'

 _Step-ball change-step-fan kick-step-hitch kick-step-jazz square-step-piqué turn-step-pivot turn-grapevine-cut-chasé-fan kick-touch-step-stop._

Actually, all of those bloody Weasleys are being irritating right now. Well, not Roxy and Lily. They had the decency to apologize for ignoring me. The rest…well.

Dance has never ignored me. Music has never ignored me. They've always been there when I needed them. This is what I get for trying to find something else like dance and music. People will never be as good as dance and music. And so what if makes me a hermit? I don't need people.

'Again.'

 _Step-ball change-step-fan kick-step-hitch kick-step-jazz square-step-piqué turn-step-pivot turn-grapevine-cut-chasé-fan kick-touch-step-stop._

But that kiss was really really nice.

I need to stop thinking about it.

'Again.'

 _Step-ball change-step-fan kick-step-hitch kick-_

'What are you doing?'

I shrieked and fell out of my hitch kick.

'Oh, sorry, I didn't…mean to -'

I gaped up at Louis, standing over me looking concerned.

'Sorry,' he said again, meekly.

'It's er, alright, I guess.'

'That looked really nice, by the way. What you were doing before,' he said awkwardly.

'Thanks, I guess. But, erm, what are you doing here?'

'Well, this is the Room of Requirement. The New D.A. meets here. I asked for a classroom, and I guess that's what I got.'

His feet shuffled nervously.

'Oh,' I said. It was all I could think of.

'How did you find this place?' he asked.

When I got awkward, I choked up and stopped talking, but obviously when Louis Weasley felt awkward he tried desperately to save the situation.

'First year. I thought it was another one of those trick doors. Like the one on the third floor that pretends to be a wall.'

His feet shuffled some more.

'I should go,' I said picking up my bag. 'You can have your meeting here, I'll just…study. Somewhere.'

I started for the door.

'Wait!' I heard him call.

I half-turned, caught between desperately wanting to talk to him and wanting to escape the situation.

'I'm sorry.'

I turned fully around and looked him straight in the eye for the first time in over a month.

'I shouldn't have kissed you. You should've slapped me or something. I've felt like such a git the last month, you have no idea. I don't know what I was thinking - I guess I wasn't thinking. And I'm really sorry.'

'For kissing me?'

'Er - yeah.'

I blushed and looked down. 'I didn't mind it that much.'

'Really?'

A smidgen of hope started to spread across his face, reminding me of Roxy's expression earlier in the day.

'Yeah.'

'Then why were you avoiding me?'

I looked back up at him, shocked. 'You were avoiding me!'

'No! You weren't at breakfast or lunch the day after, and you wouldn't even look at me the past month!'

I stared at him, and I could feel my mouth opening and closing like a fish.

All of a sudden, we both started laughing.

'Et ainsi termine mois le plus pire de nos vies,' Louis said jokingly.

'Oui. C'est merveilleux,' I responded.

We stood there smiling at each other for a second before I turned away again.

'Je ferais mieux d'aller,' I said, moving towards the door.

'Adieu ma cherie!'

I laughed as I left the room. The corridors were mostly empty, but here and there I saw someone walking towards my room - the Room of Requirement.

'Adele!' I heard someone say.

'Adele, get your arse over here!' a smaller voice chimed in.

Roxy and Freddy waved at me frantically from the end of the corridor.

'What's wrong?' I asked, approaching them.

'Well -,' Freddy began.

'It's Louis,' Roxy said, cutting him off.

I raised my eyebrows. 'What about him?'

'Well -,' Freddy began again.

'We don't have time for your rambling, Freddy,' Roxy said impatiently.

Freddy turned away, affronted.

'Anyway,' Roxy continued. 'Freddy told me that Louis told him that he - Louis - thought _you_ were avoiding _him_.'

'Erm,' I said. 'Yeah. I just talked to him. He said the same thing.'

Roxy squealed. 'You talked to him?'

'Er. Yeah.'

'Well, now that that little pickle's been cleared up and Louis the Veela is once again on speaking terms with Adèle the Sarcastic One we should get off to our meeting, darling sister,' Freddy interjected.

I wrinkled my nose. 'Still not sure that one fits.'

'You're too picky. Adèle the Captious One.'

'Is that a word?'

'Forgive him. He ate a dictionary at age six and he's been spewing it out ever since,' Roxy said.

'Of course.'

The two of them left and I went back to my dorm feeling lighter and much more peaceful than I had in weeks.

xxx

The next week the holidays started. Roxy and Lily demanded I share a compartment with them on the way back into London. They kicked out Freddy and James and Louis and insisted on 'girl talk.' Mostly they just tried to make me say that I fancied Louis. Which I wasn't sure about. I liked him. A lot. But I wasn't sure I fancied him. Although, that kiss had been amazing. And for the past week we had been very flirty. Always in french though, so no one would understand us.

'You have to drop by for Christmas dinner,' Lily told me as we neared the station. 'There's going to be loads of food - more than all of us can eat in one evening. It'll be fun! You'll come, won't you?'

She and Roxy looked at me, eyes widening hopefully.

'I dunno, I usually spend Christmas with my mum,' I said hesitantly.

'Just for a bit? And we'll give you your presents?' Roxy begged.

I bit my lip. 'I'll talk to my mum about it, yeah?'

Lily pouted and Roxy shrugged. 'It'll have to do.'

I shook my head at them and pulled my trunk down.

'Need help?' James asked.

He and Freddy stepped into the compartment casually.

'No need to be chivalrous, we're related,' Roxy said sarcastically.

'Wouldn't that just mean that we'd expected to be even more chivalrous, dear sister?' Freddy replied.

'Mate, she's saying we're only chivalrous when we want to impress someone,' said James.

'Oh. Well in that case, Adèle the Lovely One, would like some help with your trunk?'

I laughed, Roxy snorted, Lily giggled, and Freddy looked confused.

'You're hopeless,' James said, shaking his head.

'It's part of my effervescent charm,' Freddy said, beaming.

The train slowed to a stop I pointed my wand at my trunk, levitating it and guiding out of the compartment. I had gotten a lot better at simple Charms, but I knew I wouldn't be able to practice over the holidays like my classmates. I'd be practicing other things though, so I wasn't too worried.

The corridor was crowded with students, and we pressed against each other and let the flow of bodies carry us off the train. When we stepped onto the platform, Roxy, Lily, Freddy and James were all sucked up into their families. I pulled my shoulders into myself, hoping they wouldn't notice me. A little ways away, I could see Louis greeting a group of gorgeous blonde women I supposed were his mother and sisters. He looked up in my direction and I started to take a step towards him when a group of giggling Hufflepuffs rushed past me, heading straight for him. I looked down, turned away, and left the platform.

Out on the Muggle side of the station, I started looking around. My trunk was now on a trolley I pushed in front of me, awkward and bulky. I wandered around for a few minutes when I heard someone call my name.

I turned around to see my friend Marco waving energetically. When he saw I could see him, he spun a perfect pin-drop and when he was standing again, moved his shoulders left to right in isolated movements and finished with finger guns pointed straight at me. I grinned, let go of the trolley and did a quick, flippy cartwheel, landed with a somersault, and came up with a pivot turn. Marco laughed. I laughed too, and ran over to him.

When I reached him, he grabbed me around the waist and lifted me into the air, spinning around twice before setting me down again. I felt like I was floating.

'Hullo,' he said with a grin.

'Hullo,' I replied.

'Adèle!' I heard someone yell.

My best friend, Julienne, came running up behind Marco and threw her arms around my neck. I hugged her back tightly. It was always a little awkward to hug Julienne; we were both so bony that we almost clanked together, but she had been my closest friend since we were children, and I was so happy to be back with her that I didn't mind it too much.

We finally released each other and I looked over her shoulder to see my mother smiling at me affectionately. She pulled me into her arms without hesitation, and I squeezed my eyes shut, breathing in her smell of roses and baby powder - she smelled like home.

'Je t'ai manqué, Maman,' I whispered

'Je t'ai manqué aussi, ma cherie,' she whispered back.

After a long moment, we let go of each other and smiled. Marco wandered back up to us with my trunk. I grinned at him.

'How're things?'

'Boring as hell without you bun-head,' he said.

I turned to Julienne.

'Not much has happened,' she admitted.

'But!' Marco interjected. 'There is a party tonight. Rager's throwing it downtown. It's gonna be a Challenger. You wanna go?'

I turned to my mother, widening my eyes pleadingly.

She looked at the three of us for a moment and then sighed. 'Be home by midnight. And if I smell alcohol or cigarettes I'm not letting it happen again.'

Julienne squealed. 'Oh, yes! I've been waiting ages for another of these!'

'There really hasn't been a Challenger since summer?' I asked incredulously.

'There was one thrown by this new kid, but he didn't really know what he was doing, so Jules and I dipped halfway through,' Marco explained. 'But this is one of _Rager's_. So it's gotta to be good.'

'Sounds good to me,' I said with a smile. 'You driving?'

'Yes. I thought it was better me than Jules.'

Julienne gasped. 'I only got in an accident that _one_ time! And it wasn't even a bad one! You were fine!'

I laughed.

Someone cleared their throat behind me and I looked over to see Roxy, Lily, Freddy, James, and Louis standing a few feet away, staring unabashedly. I waved them over. Marco and Julienne watched them skeptically.

'So, er, everyone, this is Marco and Julienne and my mother,' I said awkwardly. 'And this is…everyone.'

'Roxy,' Roxy said, sticking out her hand. 'And this is my cousin Lily, and my brother Freddy, and Lily's brother James, and our other cousin Louis.'

Julienne, who had grown up as the only child of two only children, looked completely overwhelmed. Marco eyed them a little suspiciously - he was always suspicious of new people - but my mother smiled at them.

Louis smiled charmingly at Julienne and kissed my mother's hand. 'Enchanté.'

My mother was instantly charmed, I could see it on her face. My gaze lingered on Louis a little longer than necessary. He saw and winked at me.

'So, Mrs. Bertrand, we were wondering if you might want to come to our Christmas dinner? With our family? There's gonna be loads of food. And it's pretty casual, we always invite our friends,' Lily said.

My mother looked a bit taken aback. 'That's a very kind offer, but I don't want to intrude -'

'You won't be intruding!' Roxy interrupted. 'Nana Molly loves to make food for people, she'd probably die of happiness if you came!'

'Oh, well I'm still not sure…' my mother trailed off, unsure.

'I'll have my mum send you a letter,' James said. 'She'll ask you to come.'

Lily smiled and nodded happily.

'Alright then,' Mama said.

She smiled at them. Lily beamed right back.

'Lils, Mum's calling,' James said to her.

The two of them disappeared, heading in the direction of a red-headed woman and a shorter version of James I recognized to be his little brother, Albus.

'Speaking of mums,' Freddy said turning to Roxy. 'Have you seen ours?'

Roxy's eyes widened and she shook her head. The two of them ran off, yelling their mother's name. Louis and I just laughed.

'I'd better go. I'll see you sometime over break, yeah?' Louis asked me.

I smiled and nodded, and he left. I watched him go, and when I turned back to my friends, they were looking at me with raised eyebrows.

'Who's Frenchie?' Marco asked.

'And why didn't you tell us about him? He's yummy,' Julienne added.

'And while we're at it, why didn't you tell us about your other friends? Last summer you said you didn't like anyone at your posh little school,' said Marco.

'I didn't last summer. This year has been…different.'

'Whatever. But tonight you will tell us all about your sexy French lover,' Julienne said with a wink.

I rolled my eyes, and we all left the station.


	7. Don't Think

That night, I threw a clean extra-small sports bra into a dance bag with a pair of basketball shorts and little white socks, pulled on a jumper and some trainers and ran to the door right as Marco pulled up in front of my house, Julienne in the passenger seat.

'Adèle!' my mother called. 'Midnight, remember?'

I nodded. 'Oui Maman.'

She handed me an apple and I ran out the door.

'So,' Julienne said, turning around. 'Tell us. Frenchie.'

I ignored her, pulling off my jumper and reaching for my dance bag. Marco swerved.

'Eyes on the road!' I yelled, smacking him on the shoulder.

'Right, right, sorry,' he said absently.

I pulled the sports bra over my bare chest and then wiggled out of my trousers and into the shorts. I tossed the mother-approved clothes into the bag and sat up. Julienne wore almost the same thing I did, just different colors. Marco looked more hip-hop in his baggy jeans and shirt and the stupid hat he always wore - it was the exact same thing he'd been wearing at the station.

'You couldn't get him to change?' I asked Julienne.

'Adèle!' she said laying a hand over her heart. 'I'm touched you think I'm capable of such magic.'

I snorted and Marco groaned.

'Just once,' he said. 'Just _once_ , I would like to be able to go somewhere with you two without you questioning my fashion choices.'

'I wouldn't call that fashion,' I replied.

He swerved again, this time on purpose, throwing me against the side of the car. 'Whoops.'

I swatted his shoulder again and fastened my seatbelt.

'Where's the party?' I asked once we were safely back on the road.

'This old abandoned warehouse. Best place he's gotten yet. But also illegal - so if the police show up we gotta bounce,' said Marco.

Rager - I don't know his real name - was semi-famous in our little dance community for his parties. He was amazing at them. Always had the best location, the best music, the best drinks, and he only invited the best dancers. He was most famous for his Challengers. Challengers were basically unofficial, casual dance battle-type parties. At the beginning, one person would go up, pick someone from the crowd and battle them on the dance floor until someone lost. The loser would go back into the crowd, and the winner would pick their next opponent. This went on until around midnight usually, and then the Feuds would start. Feuds were essentially the same thing, but bets were placed on them, and they were much more serious. If you had a problem with someone and you wanted to fight, you took it out in the feuds. Honor was at stake.

I had never danced in a feud, and I hoped to keep it that way. Dancing in a feud meant you had enemies. Marco had done a few a couple years back, when this one Irish dancer had taken some issue with him and refused to let it go. They had danced in the feuds at every Challenger that summer, and Marco had always won. Eventually the Irishman had left for New York. It wasn't hard to figure out why.

The party was in full swing when we showed up around nine thirty. The three of us ducked in through the side door, greeting J, who was playing the part of bouncer/valet/look-out that night. His job was to warn us if the police showed up, keep out any kids who thought they were better than they were, and keep an eye on the cars.

Inside it was dark and loud. The only place fully lit up was the dance floor, where maybe eighty people were dancing and drinking, waiting for the entertainment to start.

'Look!' Jules yelled in my ear. 'He's got Girl Talk!'

I looked where she was pointing to see the huge, half-tuxedoed DJ bouncing a little to the beat. I grinned. Girl Talk was always the best DJ to have at Challengers.

Marco led us over to the bar where a short, skinny guy tossed us water bottles before we could ask and moved on down the row of people. A stocky boy trailed behind him, looking surly.

I scanned the room. There were maybe one hundred, one hundred fifty people here. All of them I was on first name basis with. I smiled and nodded at a few as they passed, hugged a few others. It felt good to be back here with these people. I felt like I could be myself with them.

'So,' Marco said. 'Tell us about Frenchie.'

He and Julienne watched me closely.

'Really? Don't you wanna wait until we get back to my flat? It's too loud here.'

'And when we get back to your place, you'll say you're too tired. So here is fine.'

I opened my mouth, still unsure of what was going to come out of it. Right then, Rager walked up, saving me from answering. Julienne gave me a 'we are definitely talking later' look as Rager and Marco slapped their palms together and leaned in for a quick man-hug.

'Adèle!' Rager exclaimed when he saw me. 'Been a while! Glad you're still alive.'

'So am I. God knows that every day I spend at that posh school I'm terrified I might not make it out.'

Rager laughed. 'You dancing tonight? Showing off whatever you've been working on?'

'Not really up to me is it? I have to get picked.'

'Not if you start it off. You wanna start it off?'

I shrugged.

'Yeah, you do. Come on, let's get the night started.'

He threw his arm around my shoulder and we headed over to the where Girl Talk was working on his elevated platform. Marco and Julienne trailed behind us. Rager and Girl Talk spoke for a moment and then Rager came back over.

'Two minutes. Stay ready.'

I nodded and he ran off.

'Shoes tied?' Jules asked me.

I checked. 'Yes.'

'Double knotted?' asked Marco.

'Yes.'

'Clothes fit right? Nothing's gonna slip?' asked Julienne.

'Clothes are fine,' I answered, wiping my hands down the sides of my shorts. My heart raced and I felt nervous and exhilarated.

'Hold on, lemme fix your hair,' Jules said.

She reached up and started pulling out bobby pins until the bun fell loose. I pulled it back into a ponytail.

'You know I hate dancing like this. Throws off my balance.'

'Your balance is not that precarious darling.'

I rolled my eyes, arched my back, shook out my arms.

'Ready?' asked Marco.

'As I'll ever be.'

Girl Talk waved me over.

'Alright alright!' he yelled into the mic. 'We've got our first dancer of the night! Adèle, our little home-grown ballerina's gonna be startin' us off to _night_. Make room on the dance floor people! You don't wanna be kicked in the face by this girl's flips!'

The crowd laughed and I flushed a little, remembering the time I had kicked J's chin during an impromptu dance-off in the park. He still had the scar. The dance floor cleared, leaving a brightly lit space big enough to dance in.

'Who you gon pick Adèle?'

I jumped off the platform and wandered through the crowd. I made sure to hold my head high, acting more confident than I was. I stopped in front of a tall, lanky boy I had seen around a few times but never actually met. I had to look up to see his face. We nodded at each other and started for the dance floor.

'Alright! Adèle is challenging Skinny D! Let's get _staaarted_!'

The crowd screamed so loud I could barely hear the music Girl Talk played. I could feel the bass in my bones though, so I tapped feet with 'Skinny D' and stepped into the center of the floor.

I freestyled. Starting with isolations, I moved first my head, then my shoulders, hips, and knees. I placed my hand on each part of my body like I was picking it up and moving it over, keeping the rest of my body still. It was difficult. The music picked up. I spun a pin-drop, remembering Marco's greeting at the station, and when I came up I bent my knees and balanced on my toes, letting my upper body fall back until my hands lay flat against the floor. I transferred my weight from my toes to my hands and swung my feet into the air. I did all of this as fast as I could, and I could hear the roar of approval from the crowd.

I spun around once on my hands, landed back on my feet and kept dancing. I let myself get lost in the movement. I mixed a bit of ballet with the hip-hop; that always got the crowd's approval. But it had to be just a little, and only the more daring moves. I could maybe do a pirouette or grand jeté, but that was really it.

My part ended and Skinny D's started. He was good, but nothing special. Skinny D and I bumped fists before he disappeared into the crowd. I breathlessly picked my next opponent, an arrogant Scot named Alfie. Most people called him Assy when he wasn't there.

I won that round too, and the third, and the fourth. For the fifth round I challenged a dark-skinned boy we called Zee, who moved as if he was boneless. He was a crowd favorite and I knew I couldn't beat him, but I was getting tired.

'Adèle! Yes! You were amazing!' Julienne screamed as I walked over to her. She grabbed my arm and held my fist in the air.

'This is my _best friend_!' she shrieked.

I looked at Marco. 'How many drinks has she had?'

He held up two fingers. I shook my head.

'Why don't you get a glass of water Jules?'

'I'm not drunk!'

'I didn't say you were. But if you have a hangover tomorrow, Mum's gonna know something's up.'

She pointed a wobbly finger at my face. 'You're smart.'

'Yes. That's exactly what I am. So let's go get some water, yeah?'

She nodded and ran over to the bar.

'Mouse!' she called. 'Mouse Mouse Mouse!'

Mouse came over, already holding another water bottle. He handed her the drink, jerked his chin at Marco, and turned to face me.

'Adèle. Looking good out there.'

'Thanks,' I said with a grin.

Getting a compliment from Mouse was like getting a compliment from God. He was the original. He had started the community and was entirely responsible for the fact that it was still alive. He knew everybody. Rager always went to him for help with the parties, and everybody else went to him for dance lessons. Most of us had grown up without a lot of money, although there were a few exceptions, and couldn't afford to go to studios or pay for classes. Mouse taught us on the weekends and all during the summer. There was nobody better than him.

Each year he took on a protegé, someone he saw potential in, and he taught them everything he knew. The stocky kid helping him behind the bar was this year's protegé. Mouse's students always ended up in the best crews or with lucrative contracts with some dance company. Sometimes they went out on their own and became successful that way. Being picked to study with Mouse was an incredible honor.

He couldn't dance himself anymore, because of an old injury to his left leg, but he had to find some way to stay with our community, so he played bartender. He always said that it was the best way to keep an eye out for fresh talent.

Marco, Julienne, and I had begged him to consider teaching us a few years ago, but he refused. He said that Marco didn't actually want to dance hip-hop, that Jules wouldn't always want to be a dancer, and that there wasn't anything he could teach me that I couldn't teach myself. We had all been very confused, but when I mastered a backwards somersault before his protege that year and Marco realized that he liked modern dancing better than hip-hop we knew he had to be right. We were still trying to figure out what he meant about Jules though.

'Ooh!' Jules sighed, leaning onto the bar. 'He's _yummy._ '

I looked over in the direction she was staring to see a dark-haired boy with mischievous-looking eyes watching the dancers. He seemed to know we were watching him and turned around. We made eye contact and he smiled. His teeth looked pointy.

'He smiled at you!' Julienned squealed. 'He is _sooo_ fit!'

I blushed and looked down at the plastic surface of the bar.

'She's got Frenchie, remember Jules?' Marco interjected.

'I don't _have_ Louis. He's just a…friend.'

Marco snorted. 'Right. And I'm a fucking monkey.'

'I always thought so.'

'Adèle…' he gave me an exasperated look.

I just smirked at him.

xxx

It was almost one when we finally made it back to my flat. Jules had started to sober up a little bit, and Marco was trying to carry her so she wouldn't make too much noise. I unlocked the door as quietly as I could so I wouldn't wake my mother, who was asleep in the next room.

'Put her on the couch,' I whispered to Marco.

He nodded and set her down as I pulled my jumper back on over my head and kicked off my trainers.

'Are we sleeping now?' asked Jules.

'If you want,' I replied.

I moved toward the kitchen to grab apples and tea for the three of us and when I came back out, Julienne was curled up on the corner of the couch and Marco was stretched out on the floor. He barely fit - he was tall and muscular and the room was very small - but it was the same place he'd slept every time he'd been to my house since we were kids, and he was not about to change that. I sat down next to Jules and she put her head in my lap.

'I promise not to drink next time,' she whispered.

I laughed. 'God Jules I'm not mad. Drink all you want. It's your body.'

At that she sat up straight. 'My body.'

'Yes Jules. Yours,' Marco said in a tone that heavily implied he thought she was a bit mad.

'No, I mean, _my_ body.'

'What about it Jules?' I asked.

'I'm not gonna use it anymore.'

Marco and I stared at her. 'What do you mean?'

'I mean, I don't wanna be a dancer anymore.'

Marco sat up. 'What about the recital on the thirtieth?'

'That's gonna be my last show. I'm not dancing anymore after that.'

'Why?' I asked. 'And what's this about a recital?'

'For the studio. Guess we forgot to tell you,' Marco said. 'And really Jules, why?'

'I just don't like it anymore. I wanna do piano. You know I love piano.'

I did know that. Jules was amazing on the piano. She'd been taking piano lessons just as long as she'd been taking ballet lessons, and I'd always known that if she had to choose, she'd always pick music. I just didn't think she'd choose so soon.

'Have you told your mum?' I asked.

She hesitated. 'No. Not yet. I'll tell her soon though.'

Julienne's mum was strict and a little overbearing, and Jules was terrified of her. I couldn't blame her. Her mum terrified me too.

'Who's gonna be my partner for pas de deux when you leave the studio?' Marco asked.

'I don't know. Maybe Missy?'

Marco groaned and flopped back onto the floor. He and Julienne had been taking lessons at the same studio since they were six years old. They had been pas de deux partners since they were seven, and that was how Marco and I had met. Julienne had insisted that I come practice with her and her partner for their first recital because she couldn't stand him and wanted someone else there with her. Marco and I had ended up hitting it off and after they did an amazing job in the recital Julienne softened a little bit.

Missy was the only girl in their class who was as good a dancer as Jules, but she was, in all honesty, a bitch. There was just no other word for it. She was snobby, rude, and manipulative. She constantly sabotaged Julienne's performances. She always sneered at me when I came to the studio because I couldn't afford to take classes there. We all hated her. She was like the Muggle version of Zara. I didn't blame Marco at all for not wanting to be stuck with her.

'Where's this recital going to be?' I asked.

'Oh God, Adèle are you still on that?' Marco groaned.

'Well if my best friend is dancing in her last recital next week, I want to be there!'

'Best friend _singular_?' protested Marco.

'Fine. Best friends plural, if it's your last recital too.'

'It's at the Little Theater, the one we always use. You know it,' Julienne said quickly, trying to keep the peace.

'I'll be there for sure. What time? Five?'

'Five-thirty,' Jules clarified. 'Bring a date. The older classes are going out for drinks after.'

She and Marco both grinned at me.

'I am not bringing a date. I might bring a friend, but not a date.'

'So Frenchie isn't your boyfriend?' Jules asked.

'No,' I replied, poking at one of the plasters on my toes. 'Just a friend.'

'Do you wish he was your boyfriend?' she asked.

'Oh, Lord,' Marco said, rolling onto his stomach. 'Spare me the girly talk.'

Jules and I looked at him, and then back at each other. She leaned over and put her head in my lap again, and I started braiding a piece of her fine blonde hair.

'I guess I do,' I continued. 'I mean, he's wonderful. One of the nicest people at that school. And fit. And…well, everything.'

Jules twisted her head to look me in the eye. 'Do you think he likes you? I think he likes you.'

I kept braiding. 'I don't know. Maybe. I mean, he's very flirty, but that might just be the way he talks. Kind of like Marco. How he's always flirtatious, whether he means it or not. And there's always pretty girls around him. He has loads of admirers. Including all of my bitchy dormmates. He could have anyone! I just…I wish he would pick me out of all of them, but I just don't know if he would.'

'Of course he would!' Jules said. She rolled and twisted so she was lying on her back staring up at me. 'You are beautiful Adèle. You have the cutest little heart-shaped face and gorgeous eyes and hair - but you should really wear it down more. And you're funny and sweet and blunt and wonderful. What guy wouldn't like you?'

'You're my best friend. You have to say that. Besides, I'm a stick. I have no curves at all. And guys don't like that.'

I realized I was almost quoting Walsh and closed my mouth.

'There are so many things wrong with that sentence,' Marco grumbled from the floor.

Julienne and I looked over at him, a little surprised.

'First off,' he said, sitting up. 'You said "best friend" singular again.'

I threw a pillow at him.

'Secondly,' he continued. 'I know plenty of guys who like skinny girls. Even though I like a girl to have a bit of meat on her -' he dodged the pillow Jules threw at him '- I know that every guy has a different type. So maybe Frenchie likes skinny girls. You never know.'

I thought about what Louis had said before he kissed me on Halloween, about liking ballerinas. Maybe Marco was right.

'Aha! I've gotten through!' Marco exclaimed.

'What?' I asked, looking up at him.

'You had the "maybe Marco has a point, but I don't want to tell him that" look on your face.'

'Oh my God.' I buried my face in my hands.

Jules laughed and reached up, tugging my hands away from my face.

'You're funny,' she said with a giggle.

'And you're drunk.'

'Not!' she exclaimed

She sat up again, coming up onto her knees. I sighed and tugged the last pillow on the couch to my chest, squeezing it tight.

'Uh-oh,' said Marco.

'What?' I asked.

'You only do that when you're not telling us something,' Jules said, gesturing to the pillow. 'What are you not telling us?'

'Nothing,' I said quickly.

'Adèle…' she reached over and pulled at the corner of the pillow gently.

My eyebrows pulled together a little.

'You have to tell us someday,' Marco said. 'You know you won't be able to keep a secret from us.'

I squeezed the pillow a little tighter for a second and then let out a loud breath and closed my eyes. 'He kissed me.'

Julienne squealed loudly and threw her arms around my neck. 'He loves you you have a boyfriend a really fit boyfriend my best friend has a really really fit French boyfriend oh my God!'

'Jules.' I pushed her away.

She pouted. 'What's wrong? Why aren't you happy about this?'

'It's just - he left. Right after he kissed me. He just ran out of the room. And then we kind of awkwardly avoided each other for a month. And we started talking again last week, but even though he has been _very_ flirtatious since then, he hasn't made another move. So I don't really know what to think.'

'He's scared,' Julienne said confidently.

I snorted. 'You really are drunk. Louis isn't scared of anything.'

'No - really, it's just - Marco! Back me up here!' Julienne exclaimed.

'Well, while _I_ never get scared of girls,' Marco said. 'Most guys do. So yeah. Frenchie's scared. He's waving the white flag, 'cause he hasn't been taught any better. He _is_ French after all.'

I threw the last pillow at him. ' _I'm_ French too, wanker. And he's half-English. He's more English than I am.'

'Whatever. My point is, you have to make the next move,' Marco pressed on.

I blushed.

'If that's all the girly talk for tonight, I'm going to sleep.'

He lay down with the three pillows stacked under his head and pulled down one of the throw blankets and tossed it over his body. Within minutes he was snoring.

Jules and I looked at each other.

'You should listen to him,' she whispered.

I nodded.

'You're really not mad that I want to quit dance?' she asked.

'No. Of course not. One day you're going to compose a gorgeous song and Marco and I will dance to it together and life will be perfect. I don't mind at all.'

I smiled at her. After a pause, she smiled back.

'Let's go to sleep.'

We pulled two of the pillows out from under Marco's head and he snorted in his sleep. I curled up on one half of the couch and Jules took the other. The last thing I thought before I fell asleep was how right it felt to be back in the Muggle world.

xxx

I woke up early when the post slid through the flap in the door and my mother picked it up.

'Morning Mama,' I mumbled groggily.

'Bon matin Adèle,' she said absently.*

I followed her to the kitchen where she started pulling out food and pans to make us all eggs.

'Voulez-vous regarder par la poste?' she asked as she cracked a few eggs into a bowl.**

I nodded and pulled the pile of letters and advertisements towards me. There was a booklet of coupons for the supermarket down the street, a catalog from the place Mama had bought some of her nicer clothes, and a couple of bills. I set all these aside. The last letter was addressed to me.

I split it open to find, in elegant handwriting, an invitation to attend the Weasley's Christmas dinner.

'They've invited us formally,' I said, passing my mother the letter.

She read it slowly, forehead creasing now and then as she tried to understand the foreign language. Finally she looked up at me. 'Do you really want to go Adèle?'

I shrugged and nodded. She pursed her lips and smiled faintly.

'Alright then. Do you have any of that…le poudre magique? She asked that we come through la cheminée.'

I nodded. 'Oui. C'est dans ma coffre.'

'On va laisser vers dix-huit heures, d'accord?'***

I nodded again.

'Morning,' Marco yawned, stepping into our tiny kitchen.

'Morning,' I replied.

I moved the post to the corner of the table to make room for him. He slumped into a chair and dropped his head onto his hands.

'Veux-tu du café, mon ami?' I asked him.

'English please,' he grumbled without raising his head.

'Right. Sorry. Do you want a coffee?'

'Yes. Yes, _please_.'

I stood and started making coffee as my mother whisked the eggs and poured them into the pan.

'Julienne est éveillé?' my mother asked me.

'Non. Elle est épuisé,' I replied.****

Marco let out a frustrated groan.

'You should really learn to speak French. It'll make you seem smarter,' I told him.

'I'm plenty smart,' he grumbled.

I set a cup of coffee down in front of him. My mother started serving up the eggs.

'Should we wake up Julienne?' Marco asked, lifting his head.

'No. You know how she is in the morning.'

We ate in contented silence until Jules came staggering in the room begging for coffee.

xxx

'One, _two_ , three, _four_ , five, _six_ , seven, _eight_.'

Marco, Jules and I chasée-tombé-pirouetted across the cracked floor of the garage. Music played through speakers at the door, and my mother counted beats and called out advice.

'Watch your line Marco!' she said firmly as he leaped into a grand jete.

'Julienne, your supporting leg is weak. More strength!'

'Adèle, watch your footwork.'

'Marco! Your line!'

'Adèle, you are moving too _fast_ , move on the beat, not before it.'

'Think light thoughts Julienne. You are not leaping high enough.'

There were no mirrors on the walls, we just had to trust my mother was giving us good advice. She usually was.

I spun another pirouette from fourth and beside me I could feel Marco and Julienne doing the same thing.

'Keep your eyes on your spot!' my mother called.

When the music ended, and the three of us held the final pose for a count of three and then relaxed in unison. We were breathing hard. Julienne tipped her chin up then down, bracing her hands against her waist and keeping her back as straight as she could. Marco did the opposite, leaning forward and pressing his hands against his knees.

'You know what's really weird?' Marco asked as his breath slowed.

'Hmm?' I asked.

'You keep laughing when you dance.'

'She's always done that,' Jules interjected.

I glanced over at my mother. She was standing near the door changing the music. Our eyes met and she smiled.

'Can't control it. You know that,' I said.

'It's creepy.'

'Creepy is what I do best,' I told him. 'Isn't that obvious?'

Marco laughed. 'Very true. You're like one of those little girls from the horror movies, or maybe one of the porcelain dolls.'

Julienne laughed. I smiled and ducked my head. Mama started up another song.

xxx

Two days later my phone rang early in the morning, waking me up. I glanced at the clock. It was six in the morning. As I stood, my muscles groaned. Marco had taken me to the gym the day before, and however strong and resilient I was, Marco was that times ten.

'Hello?' I said into the receiver, yawning.

'Adèle? Marco and I are dancing in the Square today. You wanna come? We could get some tips and then go Christmas shopping downtown,' Julienne said on the other end of the line.

'Sure,' I said. I twisted this way and that, cracking my back and legs and arms. 'Is the crew gonna be there? Or just us?'

'Crew. I think Cece started planning it last night.'

'Alright. Can Marco pick me up?'

'He was already planning on it. We'll be there in twenty minutes.'

There was a scuffling sound on the other end of the line and then she hung up.

I yawned again, grabbed an apple from the bowl by the sink, and headed back to my room to get dressed. Two minutes later I was sitting at the kitchen table waiting for the water to boil for tea. I flipped through the post as I waited. There were several new bills. As I ripped them open one by one, I grew more and more worried.

At least two of them had 'Final Notice' stamped on them in red ink. The others all claimed we owed a lot of money - more than Mama could pay. She was at work, she was always at work these days, but we still could barely afford food and heating.

The kettle whistled, and I stood and poured myself a cup of tea. I wasn't very good at maths, but I knew there was no way we could make some of these payments without a lot of work. I could get a lot of tips dancing in the Square. I could deposit those at the bank and if I danced every day for the rest of the holidays we _might_ be able to make it. I obviously couldn't dance there on Christmas, but every other day…

I heard Marco honking outside and ran out. I didn't tell them about the bills, but when everyone else left to do their shopping, I stayed behind and danced some more. In one day I made almost £500. I was tired and hungry and overwhelmed, but as I deposited the money into my mother's account at the bank, I knew I could make it. Between her two jobs and these tips, we'd be okay.

*' _Good morning Adèle,' she said absently._

**' _Do you want to look through the post?' she asked as she cracked a few eggs into a bowl._

*** _I nodded. 'Yes. It's in my trunk.'_

' _We'll leave around six o'clock alright?'_

****' _Is Julienne awake?' my mother asked me._

' _No. She is exhausted,' I replied._


	8. Let It Snow

'Let's go old school!' J called over the smattering of applause from the bystanders. 'Adèle, Marco, you wanna take this one?'

Julienne stepped out of the little circle, breathing hard and grinning wide, a fistful of small notes in both hands. I bumped fists with her and nodded at J.

Marco and I stepped into the center of the circle. J queued up an older pop song, one that Marco and I had first danced to together about six years earlier, when it first came out. We'd refined our choreography since then, made it a little smoother and more dramatic, but we loved it because it was one of the few songs we could dance to together without people assuming that we were together. It was a song about something close to friendship, not quite romance.

The song started and we stepped towards each other slowly from opposite sides of the circle. When the singer started speaking, Marco started doing vague and dramatic hand movements. It was very modern and it wasn't too weird and overdone. I spun a triplet, moving towards him slowly.

We came face to face and I threw my left arm out to the side and followed the tips of my fingers with my eyes. Marco was standing close, towering over me, mirroring my movements. We looked up at each other, locked eyes, and took a few steps back and then turned away from each other. We both looked back and then turned back to face each other.

We ran toward each other and Marco took my hand and twirled me. From then on it was almost like a ballroom dance, moving hand in hand with quick, fluid movements and dramatic facial expressions.

The concrete scraped my bare feet, and I could tell I would have a few new scuffs and scratches when the dance was over. I didn't mind. I had numbed to the pain in my feet years ago. The cheers of the gathering crowds spurred me on.

It was only two days before Christmas, and all the people out doing last minute shopping were stopping to watch us. Many of them dropped a few pounds into the battered hat sitting by the speakers.

When the song ended, Marco and I collected our tips and someone else stepped into the center of the circle. I sat on my dance bag with the others and stuffed my feet into my cheap fur-lined boots to stave off the cold. Julienne passed me her thermos of hot tea, and I sipped from it gratefully.

The Square where we all danced was in the middle of downtown. It actually wasn't far from Diagon Alley. Every once in awhile I would see someone in robes or someone I recognized from Hogwarts walking by. They didn't ever see me.

The patch of sidewalk where we danced was the only patch cleared of snow. The ground was freezing. I watched our bundled-up patrons move past with envy. They looked warm and happy and their bulging bags told me they weren't wondering how to keep the heat on over Christmas.

'Damn Muggles -' I heard someone say as they pushed through the crowds.

I looked up. A gorgeous blonde girl was standing a few feet away, waiting impatiently for a large group of tourists to pass. A tall blonde boy caught up to her and my heart skipped a beat. Louis was here. Probably on his way to Diagon Alley.

I sat up straighter as he looked around. He saw me and smiled.

'Adèle! What are you doing here?'

I smiled at him. 'Dancing. What does it look like?'

'Like you're drinking tea and wearing clothes that definitely aren't weather-appropriate.'

Julienne snorted. His sister looked around.

'What's going on?' she asked.

'Dominique, this is Adèle. Adèle, this is my sister Dominique,' Louis said.

'Nice to meet you,' I said, smiling at her.

'Adèle? La fille francaise?' she asked, turning to Louis.

'Oui. C'est moi,' I replied.*

Julienne coughed awkwardly.

'Anyway,' Louis continued. 'What are you dancing for?'

'Tips.'

'Right, but why?'

Julienne and I shared a glance.

'Because otherwise we can't get each other Christmas presents,' she said.

'Or keep the heat on,' I added.

Louis looked startled. 'Oh, I uh…'

He trailed off, looking to his sister who just raised her eyebrows.

'We're not rich,' Julienne said. 'But we're lucky. We get to do what we want to do for money, and we don't have to compromise ourselves doing it.'

'Happy too. I forget who said it, but somebody did, "there are shortcuts to happiness, and dancing is one of them",' I said.

'Or "dancing is like dreaming with your feet!" I think that was Constanze,' Julienne agreed.

'Of course, I just, er,' he paused again.

I laughed, and Julienne joined in.

'Don't be so awkward Frenchy,' she said. 'We don't mind.'

'Off to do some Christmas shopping?' I asked.

'Yeah, Maman wanted us to pick up some things. We were going to stop at the Leaky first though, if you want to join us?'

I blushed. 'Er -'

'She wants to,' Marco said quickly.

He pushed me from behind and I spilled a little tea.

'For a few minutes, sure,' I said.

'Great,' Louis said with a smile.

'Oui, c'est fantastique. J'ai quelques questions pour tu,' his sister said with a smirk.**

My shoulders tensed. I just nodded and grabbed my jumper, pulling it on over my sleeveless workout shirt and leggings. Marco slipped a few pounds into my pocket, thinking I wouldn't notice. I rolled my eyes, but I accepted the money.

I had told my friends about the little predicament I was having with the bills. They had immediately tried to get me to accept their tips as well as my own, insisting that they owed me anyway, because they wouldn't be the dancers they were without my mother, but I had refused. Now they just insisted on paying for my food and drinks if we went out. I was too grateful to protest - and now it looked like my mother and I would be able to pay all our bills.

At the Leaky, Dominique and I sat down at a table in the back while Louis went up to the bar to get our drinks.

'So, Adèle, tell me about yourself,' Dominique said.

'What do you want to know?' I asked a little nervously.

'How did you and Louis meet, for one,' she answered.

'Erm, in the corridor. We sort of…bumped into each other.'

I really didn't feel like telling this girl about Walsh and Zara.

'Mmm,' she said absently. 'And you're French? And you want to be a ballerina?'

'Er, well, yes. I suppose.'

She nodded. 'Maman's a balletomane. We're going to see the Nutcracker on the twenty-sixth.'

I nodded, still feeling a little out of place. Louis returned with the Butterbeers.

'How's your holiday been so far Adèle?' he asked as he slid into the chair across from me.

I took the drink he offered me. 'Alright. Cold.'

Dominique let out an elegant little sigh. 'It's been freezing. It was so much _warmer_ in Nice.'

'Dom spent the last few months interning with a company located in Nice,' Louis explained.

'What company?' I asked politely.

'A little beauty start-up. They aren't on the market yet,' Dominique said. 'Victoire is co-owner, but she's not coming back until tomorrow night.'

I nodded. 'That's…nice.'

Louis coughed awkwardly. I tapped my feet to the beat of the quiet background music. I wished I could have said something - anything - but my mind was blank.

'So, Adèle, you are coming to our Christmas dinner aren't you?' Louis asked suddenly.

'Er, yes. What time should I be there?'

'Any time. We usually get there in the afternoon sometime,' he explained.

We sat for a while, sipping the Butterbeers and talking. I decided I liked Dominique. She was very feminine, but still sarcastic, very smart, a little terrifying. We'd sat for nearly an hour when I remembered that Marco and Julienne were probably waiting for me back in the square. I excused myself and left. My heart still felt a little hollow from anxiety.

Only Marco, Julienne and Cece were still in the square when I got back.

'Everyone else decided they just had to go get a drink,' Marco explained when he saw me.

Cece nodded at me. 'Feel like taking another turn? We're all exhausted.'

I grinned. 'Of course.'

She queued up a song Marco had first shown me the previous day. I let the music seep into my body and shut out the rest of the world. I shut out my insecurities and fears, I shut out my jealousy, my anxiety, my sadness. I shut out Louis. I shut out Dominique. I even shut out Marco and Julienne. It was just me, on a patch of concrete with the snow scraped away, dancing in bare feet to an unfamiliar song. Just dance.

xxx

On Christmas morning, I woke up to the sound of my mother clattering about in the kitchen. I smiled. I could smell her making crêpes.

The floor was cold under my feet when I stood. I pulled on fuzzy socks and wrapped my big quilt around me, heading out to the kitchen.

'Joyeux Noël Maman,' I said, kissing her cheek.

She smiled, expertly flipping a crêpe before turning around to face me. 'Joyeux Noël ma cherie.'

I turned on the kettle for coffee and settled down at the table. For a few minutes it was quiet and peaceful, just the two of us.

'There is a lot more money in the account,' my mother said suddenly. 'More than I've made in the past few weeks.'

She shot me a pointed look.

'I went out a few times with Julienne and Marco and Cece and them,' I replied, ducking my head.

'Often enough to make hundreds of pounds?' she asked, a little disapprovingly.

I shrugged a little. 'I suppose. I saw the bills. I had to do something Mama. I just did a little street performing during the day. Near the shops.'

She flipped another crêpe. It was silent again for a moment.

'You know I don't like you doing that,' she said eventually. 'It's not safe.'

'I was safe Mama!' I protested. 'I stayed on busy streets but not too close to the street and I was almost always with other people.'

'Which other people?'

'Julienne -'

'Julienne is tiny,' she interrupted. 'You might be less safe with her.'

'- and Marco,' I continued. 'And J and, well, everyone.'

I looked back down at the table, letting the sentence trail off.

Mama shook her head. 'Well, you're okay and we got the bills paid off. I suppose that's what matters.'

I nodded. 'Exactly.'

She let herself smile at me a little and turned back to the stove, pouring a little more batter into the pan. The kettle whistled and I stood to make us coffee. There was another peaceful silence as we finished making breakfast and sat down.

I placed a crêpe on my plate and heaped it with cooked apples, powdered sugar and a little chocolate syrup. Mama smiled at me across the table as she did the same thing.

We only ate fatty, sugary foods like this on holidays, as a special treat. I laughed as she smeared a bit of chocolate sauce on her chin, and she rolled her eyes at me when I got sugar on my nose.

When the food was finished, I started to pick up the dishes to wash up, but Mama put out her hand to stop me.

'J'ai un cadeau pour tu ma chérie.'

'Mais nous avons pas l'argent,' I replied, confused.***

We hadn't exchanged gifts in years. Instead, we celebrated with food and music, and taking a day off from dancing to watch Christmas specials on the telly.

'Asses tu, s'il te plait,' she said, smiling.****

I smiled back, and slid into the chair.

Mama pushed a small wrapped box across the table. I took it and started untying the ribbons. Mama seemed almost giddy, tapping her fingers on the table excitedly. I grinned at her as I ripped the paper off to revealing a small cardboard box, the type jewelry is usually packaged in at stores.

When I opened the box, I saw my grandmother's old locket lying on a square of cotton. It was a decorative, almost baroque silver oval, slightly tarnished with age. I picked it up and watched the fine chain unravel from its coil in the box. It was beautiful.

'Mama,' I said, looking up at her.

'Your grandmere gave it to me when I was sixteen, and she got it from her mother when she was sixteen. You take good care of it, you hear me?'

'Of course Mama,' I whispered.

She stood and took the necklace from my hands, fastening it around my neck.

'You look beautiful.' She smiled at me.

I stood and wrapped my arms around her waist. She hugged me back for a while before pulling away.

'Les vaisselles, ma chérie.'*****

'Yes, yes right.'

xxx

It didn't take me long to get ready. I pulled on my only nice dress and a pair of high heeled shoes, pulled my hair up and put on just a little makeup. For about an hour I wandered around the flat as my mother showered and did her hair.

I felt restless. I tapped my feet against the floor for a moment and then, enjoying the sound, started a short tap routine. My heels mad a happy click-click-click noise on the linoleum. I laughed and spun, letting my arms spread out until they touched the walls and trailing one foot behind me so it made a pretty scraping sound.

'Adéle? Are you dancing on my floor?' I heard my mother call.

'No Mama!' I yelled back.

I huffed out a sigh and dropped onto the couch. Eventually my mother finished her extensive beauty routine and stepped out into the room.

'Adéle, you're not going like that are you?'

I looked up at her. 'Yes?'

She rolled her eyes at me and moved over to fix my hair, unpinning and repinning it until it was pulled away from my face just a little and still fell down my back to my elbows.

I touched the curls uneasily. I didn't like having my hair down. I wasn't used to it, but I knew better than to argue with my mother on this. I took her hand and stepped into the fireplace, taking a handful of Floo powder. With a spin and a flash of green flames, we emerged at the Potter house.

The room we stepped into was quiet and empty, but beautifully decorated. It looked expensive. Our shoes clicked on the floor and echoed off the walls.

'Hello? Someone there?' I heard a voice call.

James stepped into the room and grinned at us.

'Oh, hello Adéle, Ms Bertrand,' he said cheerfully. 'Everyone's in the kitchen. Bit of a fight going on, but it should be over in a flash.'

We followed him from room to room and we could hear loud voices getting closer. Eventually we stepped into the kitchen. It was crowded and hot and loud. It felt a bit like the common room at Hogwarts, and I found myself relaxing a little.

In the middle of the room, an older woman with greying red hair yelled at her husband, who was bleeding profusely from a cut on his upper arm. He weakly responded with something about a Muggle pet and next to me James stifled a laugh.

'Oh, hello there, you must be the Bertrands,' a tall, pretty woman said, stepping up to us. 'I'm Ginny.'

She smiled.

'Hello,' my mother replied, a little uncertainly.

'Adéle, why don't you come with us?' James asked. 'All the cousins are going into the other room so we don't get roped into cooking again.'

I looked up at my mother and squeezed her hand briefly before following James down a short hallway.

'Adéle!' Lily squealed. 'Been waiting for you.'

'Yeah, we didn't want to start without you. Everyone else is already here,' Roxy added.

They grabbed my hands and pulled me into a gorgeously posh sitting room full of overstuffed chairs and fresh flowers. All the Weasley-Potter cousins were already there, along with Felix Mersey and Kitty Poole, a pretty third year who appeared to be friends with Roxy and Lily.

There was chorus of hellos and happy Christmases as Lily and Roxy dragged me to the center of the room. The two of them plopped themselves on the floor and the others rearranged themselves to sit in a circle.

'Time for presents!' Roxy cheered.

She threw a pile of gift-wrapped boxes into the center of the circle. The others followed her lead.

I coughed awkwardly. 'Erm, I didn't know I was supposed to bring anything….'

'Merlin Stick, it's Christmas,' Mersey said disbelievingly. 'How could you not think to bring presents?'

Freddy glared at him. 'Knock it off mate. We didn't tell her about the presents.'

'Why?' I asked, confused.

'Because we have a different idea about what you could give us,' Louis jumped in.

He winked. I blushed.

' _Anyway_ ,' Roxy continued. 'Prezzies.'

'Right! Everyone dig in!' Lily yelled, and with that everybody leaned in and started grabbing packages from the pile and tossing them around the circle.

A brightly wrapped gift landed in my lap and I looked down at it a little disbelievingly.

'Go on,' Roxy said gleefully. She wrapped thick scarf around her neck. 'Open it.'

I tugged at the ribbon and when it fell away I slipped off the paper. Inside was a potions safety kit. I looked over at James to see an identical kit in his lap.

'From me,' Freddy said cheerfully. 'My favorite cousin should not be popping any more of Adéle the Innocent's cauldrons.'

I frowned. 'What am I innocent of?'

'Intentional dungeon destruction,' Freddy explained. 'That's something that is not true of -' he stopped to count '- eighty per cent of the people here.'

I nodded, pretending to understand.

'Open mine!' Lily called over to me, tossing another gift my way.

I caught the little box and studied it carefully. It was larger than Freddy's gift, and heavier.

'That one's actually from a bunch of us,' James said, shooting Lily a look. 'Says so on the card.'

'Yeah, but I wrapped it,' Lily argued.

I flipped open the small card taped to the paper.

' _From: Lily, James, Albus, Roxanne and Rose'_ it read

'Erm, thanks,' I said, confused.

I looked up.

'We bullied Albus and Rose into chipping in for it,' James explained, sensing my confusion. 'Couldn't afford it without them.'

'Oh,' I said weakly.

'Open it!' Lily exclaimed.

I ripped the paper, exposing a plain white cardboard box held shut with Spell-o-tape. James handed me a small penknife to slice the tape with. Inside the box was a tissue-wrapped music box.

My lips parted as I pulled the tissue off. The box wasn't very big, but it was beautiful. Gold, with an enameled silhouette of a woman on the lid and red velvet peeking out from inside.

'Open it!' Roxy urged.

I flicked the little clasp on the front and pushed up the top. A little dark-haired ballerina sprang up and spun slowly to the music from Coppelia.

'The woman at the shop said it would play all the songs from this ballet. About the doll,' Lily said cheerfully.

I stared at her. 'This is beautiful. Thank you.'

'We saw it in the shop and thought you'd like it, you know, 'cause of your Halloween costume,' Roxy said.

'It's perfect.' I smiled, watching the little ballerina in her white dress spin on her little glass toe.

I looked up to see Louis smiling at me from across the room. He smiled and nodded towards the door. I looked around and when I saw that no one was looking, I stood and followed him out into the hall.

'What is it?' I asked him as the door shut.

'I wanted to give you your gift in private,' he said. 'Come on.'

I followed him as he set off down the hall. His wand twitched and my shoes came zooming towards us. I caught them before they hit my face and tugged them on, hopping ungracefully.

My mother's laugh sounded from the kitchen and I smiled. I hadn't heard her laugh in a long time.

'Adéle, this way,' Louis urged.

He led me outside and down a little snow-covered path to a gazebo. The floor of the gazebo was worn and free of snow, with heating charms cast on it to keep it warm throughout the winter. I shivered.

'I got you a gift,' Louis said.

'You didn't have to,' I said nervously. 'I didn't get any of you anything.'

'It's fine,' he said. 'It's from my family, really.'

He handed me a crisp white envelope. I took it, my fingers tingling where they touched his. It made a sharp sort of ripping sound as I ripped it open. Inside were two tickets to the _Nutcracker_ ballet at a theatre in London the very next night.

'We're going tomorrow night,' Louis said. His voice was tinged with a hint of nervousness. 'I thought you and your mother would like to come with us. And there's a party we're going to after, for the donors and the dancers. You can come with us to that too.'

I realized that my jaw was hanging open again; I was shocked.

'Are you sure?' I said hoarsely. 'This - this is too much.'

'Nah, we get free tickets,'' Louis said with a shrug.

'I - I don't know what to say. You all, you're too kind.'

Louis stepped closer. 'It's not too much. Not for you.'

I looked up at him, blinking. He was close enough to touch, close enough to kiss. I leaned upwards, staring at his lips. He leaned in too, and our noses brushed.

'Adéle? Louis?' A voice said from behind a row of small trees.

I blushed, stepping away from Louis quickly, embarrassed. He looked away. James emerged from behind the trees, taking in the situation - both of us red-faced, still standing too close.

'We're about to have dinner,' James said.

Louis and I nodded, following him back inside.

*' _Adèle? The french girl?' she asked, turning to Louis._

' _Yes, that's me,' I replied._

**' _Yes, that's great. I have a few questions for you,' his sister said with a smirk._

 _***'I have a present for you my dear.'_

' _But we don't have the money,' I replied, confused._

 _****'Sit down please,' she said, smiling._

*****'The dishes, my dear.'


End file.
